


your love, so sweet

by verdanthoney



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Ba Sing Se, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Zuko (Avatar), Body Image, Councilman Sokka (Avatar), Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inspired by Legend of Korra S1:E9, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Republic City, Sharing a Bed, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, Sokka and Zuko are in their 40s, Stress Eating, Zukka Big Bang, chubby Sokka, takes place roughly 28 years after the war according to avatar wiki, zuko bakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdanthoney/pseuds/verdanthoney
Summary: After the traumatizing events of Yakone’s trial, Sokka decides he needs a break from the United Republic Council. His travels lead him to a certain tea shop in Ba Sing Se, where he finds some unexpected, but familiar faces.In which Sokka learns about facing the past, getting old, being a parent, and treating himself with kindness, all while falling in love.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Izumi & Sokka (Avatar), Izumi & Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Mai/Zuko - Relationship, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 197
Kudos: 344
Collections: Zukka Big Bang





	1. the killing moon

**Author's Note:**

> hi folks! just a few things:  
> -thank you so much to the artist for this fic, Taki (6reeze on tumblr!) for creating some beautiful art to go along with the story <3  
> -a very special thank you to my lovely beta, Jo (bisexuallsokka on tumblr and lesmiserablol on ao3!) for leaving me the sweetest comments and encouraging me along the way! you're the best and i love you <3  
> -this fic is technically spoilers for the legend of korra s1:e9, so keep that in mind before you start reading!  
> -just wanted to clarify that i hate the writers for making toph a cop because it doesn't fit her character at all, but for the sake of the yakone storyline and my brain, toph is a cop in this fic (she's also only in this for like 2 seconds lol)>:(  
> -chapter titles are song titles that i thought fit the vibe of each chapter (not necessarily the songs themselves)  
> -if you need me to tag something just let me know!  
> -make sure to check out the other Zukka Big Bang fics posting this month!  
> this will be updating every other day until it's all posted! thank you and enjoy!!!! :)

__

_In my years, I have encountered people born with rare and unique bending abilities._

The caress of water over Sokka’s skin felt like a figment of his imagination as his own words rang in his head. He was far away, remembering what landed him in Katara and Aang’s bathtub in the first place.

_The overwhelming amount of testimony and evidence has convinced this council that Yakone is one of these unique benders and he exploited his ability to commit these heinous crimes._

His breath hitched as Katara focused on a particularly painful spot on his ribcage. The grip he had on the edge of the tub tightened and his eyes squeezed shut.

_We find Yakone guilty of all charges and sentence him to life in prison._

Sokka jerked up into a sitting position, gasping at the shock of pain that ran down his entire body. The water sloshed with his erratic movements. He heard a considerable amount splatter on the bathroom floor.

Katara frowned and sat back on her stool, a worried crease to her brow. “Was that too much?” she asked.

Sokka sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. He ignored the fact that they were trembling. “Yeah. I think I’ve had enough of that for the day.”

“Do you feel any better?”

He wiggled all of his limbs as best he could in the confined space of the bathtub and rolled his shoulders back a few times. Aside from the way his entire body felt faintly bruised, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been before Katara worked her magic on him. Finally, he nodded. “I’m still a little sore, but I feel better than I did.”

It had only been two days since the disastrous events of Yakone’s trial, but Sokka was still feeling the effects of being bloodbended nearly to death. The ordeal left him with what seemed to be every cell in his body aching terribly. Not to mention that the old pain in his left leg had been flaring up more in the past forty-eight hours than it had in twenty years. If it wasn’t for Katara’s healing abilities, he would’ve been bed-ridden for weeks, he was sure. Just like all of Yakone's other victims.

Her eyes scanned his body, as if she would be able to see the invisible pain he was still feeling. He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, until she sighed and gave up to help him out of the tub. Katara gripped his bicep and stood with him as he rose on shaky legs. She brought both of her arms up high and sent them down in a quick motion, bending most of the water on his body back into the tub. 

“Is that how you dried the kids after a bath when they were little?” he asked. He smirked, hoping it covered up his wince as he stepped out of the tub and busied himself with pulling on his clothes.

“No,” she laughed, “that was Aang’s job. You know, because he’s an _airbender_?”

“Ah, right,” he exaggeratedly slapped his palm to his forehead. “How could I forget?”

Katara rolled her eyes as she turned to leave the bathroom, but he could see her hiding a smile behind her hand. He straightened out his tunic and took a step forward to examine his reflection in the mirror. The haggard man staring back at him made him grimace. His hair hung limply around his face. There were dark bags under his eyes and stubble dusting his cheeks, which wasn’t a good look with the longer hairs that already coated his chin. He groaned, remembering that his shaving kit was back in his apartment in the city.

He, along with Toph, Lin, and Suyin had spent the last couple nights at Aang and Katara’s home on Air Temple Island rather than their own places in Republic City. It brought the couple peace of mind, knowing their friends were safe at all times. It was easier for Katara to heal them in the comfort of her own home, too, seeing as both Sokka and Toph suffered from the bloodbending that transpired in the courtroom. Sokka would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to be there, especially after Yakone’s goons had somehow managed to break him out of prison the first night he was stuck in a cell. Toph had grumbled about it at first, muttering that she could take care of herself, but nonetheless decided to stay too. He knew she was shaken by what happened as much as he was, though neither of them would dare say it aloud.

Sokka jerked to attention at the sound of the front door opening, and hurried out to the living room. Aang and Toph filed through the door, the looks on their faces not boding well for Sokka’s questions.

“Did you find anything?” he blurted out eagerly.

“Yes and no,” Aang sighed dejectedly, flopping onto a stool at the kitchen island with a huff. He put his head in his hands. “We didn’t find Yakone, but we did track down a member of his gang. We took him in for questioning, but he wouldn’t give anything up about where Yakone is.”

Sokka’s shoulders slumped and he trudged over to sit on the stool next to his friend. He placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to bring comfort. Katara sidled up to Aang’s other side and rubbed circles on his back. 

“We’ll get him, Aang. Don’t worry,” Sokka said with conviction, though he sounded much more determined than he really felt.

“Not unless that guy decides to crack,” Toph said, joining them in the kitchen. She leaned against the counter gingerly. Sokka noticed she was rubbing her wrists. She must still be sore, then. “I don’t understand why they want to protect him. Yakone lost his bending. He isn’t powerful anymore.”

Aang picked his head back up. “He’s had a huge influence on the city for years. I don’t think he would just give that up, with or without his bending.”

Toph growled in frustration. She threw her head back and it hit the cabinet behind her with a _thunk_. “This is all my fault. I should’ve stationed my best officers at his cell. Or, better yet, guarded it myself.”

“This isn’t your fault, Toph, or anyones for that matter. There’s a lot we don’t know about Yakone’s following. They would have broken him out no matter what we did,” Aang muttered.

“When I find that asshole, I’m gonna─”

“Toph,” Katara cried, “language!”

“Oh, come on! The kids aren’t even around! Live a little,” Toph retorted.

As if summoned, the door to the house burst open and the kids tumbled through. They all kicked their shoes off and piled them next to the door, chattering loudly amongst themselves. Bumi, the eldest, held a squirming Suyin in his arms as he approached the kitchen. Toph perked up and made grabby hands, which were occupied by her toddler a moment later as Bumi handed the wiggling girl over. Lin, stoic as ever, sat down next to Sokka at the kitchen island, the seat which happened to be closest to her mother.

“How did the search go?” Bumi asked.

Every adult groaned in response. Bumi raised his eyebrows at them and didn’t say another word about it.

“Mom, I’m hungry. Have you started dinner yet?” Kya whined, bounding up to Katara and fitting herself to her mother’s side. Kya was at that weird age where she was either attached to Katara at the hip or wanted nothing to do with her. Fortunately for all of them, it seemed to be the former tonight.

Katara shook her head, a smile ghosting her lips as she played with Kya’s messy hair. “How about you help me get started?” she murmured, leading Kya to the small pantry adjacent to the kitchen.

Sokka noticed Tenzin sulking in the shadows of the living room, still standing close to the door. “Hey, buddy,” he called, getting the boy’s attention, “you alright?”

Tenzin stepped closer to the kitchen, into the light, and scowled. It became apparent why he didn’t want to stray far from the door. He was covered head to toe in mud. It was caked in his hair and on his clothes, which were no longer the bright orange and yellow they were when he left the house that morning with the other kids.

Aang failed to stifle a giggle. He covered his mouth, trying to hide his amusement. “What happened to you?” he asked.

Tenzin huffed, the scowl never leaving his face. “Ask Bumi and Kya,” he grumbled.

Sokka and Aang turned to Bumi expectantly. The teen grinned and said, “Kya made me a mud puddle and I pushed Tenzin into it.”

Sokka laughed and clapped Bumi on the back. “That sounds like something your mother would do to me.”

“If I recall correctly, she _has_ done that to you,” Aang chuckled.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He looked over at Tenzin and beckoned him closer. Hesitantly, the boy walked into the kitchen, glancing behind him as if he was scared to leave a trail of mud in his wake. When he came close enough, Sokka leaned forward and whispered, “You know what I always did when your mom bullied me when we were kids?”

Tenzin looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” he whispered back.

Sokka grinned. “I tickled her.”

Tenzin’s eyes widened further. He glanced at Bumi lightning quick, then looked back at Sokka, a question in his eyes. Sokka smiled and nodded. He delighted in seeing the mischievous look that so rarely made its way onto Tenzin’s face, and watched as the boy chased his older brother into the living room with wiggling fingers. He laughed loudly when Tenzin knocked Bumi down with a blast of air, jumping onto him. Bumi shrieked as he was tickled, though Sokka knew it was an act for Tenzin’s sake. After all, Bumi was much stronger than Tenzin and easily could have pushed him away. But he didn’t.

Kya abandoned her post at the cutting board to join the fun. Even Lin hopped off her stool and got in on the action. Aang and Sokka watched the chaos unfolding in the living room fondly. The sounds of Toph cackling, Katara shouting, and sheepish apologies from the kids _almost_ made Sokka forget about the dark cloud that seemed to be hanging over him for the past two days, the fear that stirred in his chest when his thoughts wandered too far. Almost.

That’s how the next fortnight passed. Sokka and Toph would switch off in searching for Yakone and questioning gang members with Aang, while one of them stayed back on the island for healing sessions with Katara and to help her watch all the kids for the day. Until two weeks went by since the trial and still, they had not located Yakone. They would all eat dinner together, stewing in their failure. Sokka was growing frustrated; with himself, mostly. It was getting harder to hide the bags under his eyes, the way he kept having the same nightmare every night since the trial, and the way his left leg ached so much it felt like it had its own heartbeat sometimes.

Finally, many days after the trial, one of Yakone’s cronies let slip that he had left the city as soon as he got out of prison. They didn’t know where he was headed, just that he was gone. If Yakone left the city with no bending and without his gang, then he probably wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’d want to stay out of trouble, lest he catch Aang’s attention. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief; everyone except for Sokka, who couldn’t get rid of the niggling feeling of wrongness that lingered inside him since he’d lost control of his body for those excruciating few minutes.

Just to be safe, Aang and Katara asked both him and Toph to stay on Air Temple Island for one more night. They grudgingly agreed. Although Sokka liked spending so much time with his family and friends, he liked his space. What he didn’t like were the worried looks Katara kept shooting him when he nodded off over his breakfast, or the knowing ones from Toph when someone touched him without any warning and he jumped.

That night, he lay awake in bed, thinking about the Council. Mentally, he went over his schedule in his head, and every time he realized he had to attend court, and sit at the head of the table in that same spot where he had felt his blood vessels get squeezed and his limbs twist painfully, his heart started to pound. He decided, then, what he needed to do for himself.

He crept out of bed and snatched his pack off the floor, where his belongings were already neatly tucked away, and tip-toed into the living room. On a bookshelf that contained various toys for the kids sat a stack of paper and some charcoal pencils. Grabbing one of each, he hastily wrote out a note for Katara and Aang to find in the morning.

 _Your favorite brother decided he wants to take a much-needed, well-deserved vacation!_ _Please tell the Council I’ll be back soon. Tell Jingbo he’s in charge until I get back. I’ll let you know where I end up._

_Love,_

_Sokka_

He read over his messy scrawl a few times. It may have been overly-cheery, but it would have to do. Jingbo was an Air Acolyte on the United Republic Council. Sokka had a lot of respect for him, and knew he would be able to handle things while he was gone. How long he would be gone, he wasn’t sure. But he knew he couldn’t lead Republic City in the state he was in. He couldn’t let anyone know that he was barely holding it together. He needed to sort himself out, even if he had no idea what that would entail.

He left the note on the kitchen island and headed to the door to put his shoes on. As he was bent over tugging on his boots, the floor creaked near the bedrooms and he shot up.

“Going somewhere?” Toph asked, swaying in place with a sleeping Suyin on her shoulder. Sokka stared, dumbfounded, as she walked over to him with soft footsteps. 

“Uhhh… No?” he squeaked. Toph hummed in response, not sounding too convinced. He cursed inwardly. He wasn’t sure why he still tried to lie around Toph, but it was annoying that his brain immediately resorted to that nonetheless.

“Are you done lying?”

He crossed his arms. “Why are you even awake?”

“Because I couldn’t sleep and I have a fussy kid. Now stop avoiding the question.”

Sokka glared at her even though she couldn’t see it. “Fine. I’m leaving the city.”

She tilted her head curiously, resting her cheek on Suyin’s back. The toddler made a snuffling sound in her sleep and snuggled in closer to Toph’s shoulder. “Why?” Toph asked.

His jaw worked as he tried to come up with something to tell her. He hadn’t planned for this, for someone to catch him sneaking out. 

“Honestly, Toph… I’m not doing so hot. I’m not in any position to go back to work. I just─ I can't be here,” he admitted.

She chuckled quietly, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

It hit him then, that Toph had been through the same thing he had. She could be suffering just as bad as he was, though he wouldn’t know it; neither of them were big on talking.

“How are you doing?” he asked hesitantly.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “If this is what you need to do, then I’m not gonna stop you. Just be careful.”

Sokka considered her for a moment, before stepping forward and wrapping her in a hug. She couldn’t return it because she was still holding Suyin, but he felt her relax slightly, tipping forward into him and letting out a short breath.

“I’ll be here if you ever wanna talk, okay?”

“I know,” she whispered. 

“Will you cover for me?” he asked meekly.

He felt her snort into his chest. “Sure. But I won’t protect you from your sister when you get back and she tries to murder you.”

Sokka winced and pulled away. “Alright. That’s fair.”

He hefted his pack onto his shoulder and reached for the door handle.

“Take care of yourself, Toph.”

“You too, Snoozles.”

He huffed at the nickname. Oh, how he wished he could still sleep like his teenage-self. He slipped out the door silently and walked around the house until he spotted Appa, bathed in moonlight and asleep on a cliffside a few paces away. Sokka tapped him on the nose. The bison lazily opened one eye, groaning lowly when Sokka climbed onto his neck and grabbed the reins.

“I know, buddy. I just need you to bring me to the city and then you can go back to sleep.”

On Appa, the flight over the bay was only a couple of minutes long. He searched the buildings of Republic City below until he saw the train station. Appa descended until they landed in the street, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Sokka coughed as he slid off the bison’s neck and turned to scratch Appa’s forehead.

“You can go home now. Thanks for the lift.”

Appa nudged him with his giant head and gave him a wet kiss goodbye. The slap of his tail on the road sent another cloud of dust into the air as he flew away. Sokka hurried onto the courtyard outside of the train station to avoid another coughing fit, looking around warily. Sometimes gangs frequented the area, but they were probably laying low after what happened with Yakone. 

He spared a glance over to the statue of Zuko that loomed in the center of the courtyard as he walked, the torch blazing in his giant stone hand lighting Sokka’s path. Zuko had protested having a statue of himself erected anywhere in the city, but Aang refused to listen. Sokka remembered agreeing that Zuko should have a statue, if only to tease him about it, but it wasn’t as if Zuko didn’t deserve one. After all, the railroad system connecting Republic City to the far reaches of the Earth Kingdom wouldn’t exist without Zuko’s resources from the Fire Nation, which he had eagerly provided as he and Aang built the city up. Sokka smiled at the thought of his friend, who he hadn’t seen since his last visit to Republic City almost two years ago.

His steps faltered and he stopped just short of the many stairs leading up to the station. Spirits, had it really been that long? Of course, they exchanged letters every few months, but that didn’t compare to actually spending time with him in person. Had he really become so absorbed in his duties with the Council that he let almost two years go by without seeing his friend?

An old sadness rose in his chest, one that came and went as he remembered the days before Sozin’s Comet when all they could do was prepare for the worst. But at least they had each other during that time; it was the six of them against the world. Now, Sokka would be lucky to be in the same room as all of them again before he turned into an old man. Sure, he worked with Toph nearly every day, and he saw Aang and Katara most days. But Suki? He hadn’t visited Kyoshi Island in years. And his chances of seeing Zuko had been sporadic at best since the war ended and he took over as Fire Lord. Even moreso when he married Mai and they had Izumi.

Briefly, Sokka considered getting on a boat to the Fire Nation instead of taking a train deeper into the Earth Kingdom. But then he shook his head at himself and took the steps up to the train station two at a time, his left leg protesting as he did so. If Zuko was too busy to visit Republic City, then he probably wouldn’t appreciate Sokka showing up on his doorstep unannounced. Besides, Sokka still didn’t really feel comfortable in the Fire Nation despite how much it had changed, and the hot weather always made him feel sick.

He entered the train station and looked at the signs above each ticket booth, all of them staffed with tired workers. Each sign displayed the names of various Earth Kingdom cities in black paint. Belatedly, he realized as he was scanning them that he had no particular destination in mind. That is, until his eyes landed on the sign above the last booth down the line.

 _Ba Sing Se_ , it said.

He was already walking over to the booth before his brain caught up with his body. Inside was a bored-looking young man, head resting on his chin and eyes glazed over in thought. He straightened up when he saw Sokka approaching.

“C-councilman Sokka!” the boy spluttered, scrambling to make it look like he wasn’t just zoning out. “What can I do for you?”

“When is the next train to Ba Sing Se arriving?”

The boy glanced at a chart on the wall. “Looks like it should be here in a few hours, actually. If everything stayed on schedule.”

 _Perfect timing_ , Sokka thought with a grin. Republic City only had one train straight to Ba Sing Se, which meant people had to wait for it to make its four day round-trip back to the city once it left. Unless they travelled to a different town with a train to Ba Sing Se, but those were few and far between. The railroad system had made leaps and bounds since its humble beginning, but there was still potential to make it more efficient.

Without thinking too much about it, he said, “I’ll take one ticket, please.”

The boy got to work procuring a ticket for him and stamping it as Sokka counted out yuans to hand over. He slipped in a little extra, just because he could, and in response to the boy’s wide-eyed look, said, “If anyone asks, you didn’t see me here.”

He would tell Katara where he was, eventually. But he didn’t want to make it easy for her to track him down, should she try to.

He took his ticket and collapsed on a nearby bench, setting his pack on the ground between his legs. _There’s no going back now_ , he thought, staring down at the ticket in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t wise to run from one city to another in an effort to escape the thoughts plaguing him. Another city which held memories of his that were no better, if not worse, than the ones of Republic City. But if wisdom was what he was seeking, then he knew just the person to talk to.

People slowly trickled into the station and wandered to the side he was sitting on as time went on. People who bought their tickets in advance. People who _planned_ their trips out. His good leg bounced up and down nervously. He rarely did things without planning them out. In fact, the last time he could recall doing something this drastic without a plan was a whopping twenty-eight years ago when he snuck into the Boiling Rock prison with Zuko. Except this time, he wasn’t trying to save anyone; just his own sanity and mental health.

He blew out a breath of relief as the train finally screeched into the station. A surprising amount of people stepped off, most of them looking worse for wear. They were probably from the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se, looking for a better life in Republic City. He frowned at the thought that they might not find what they were looking for. Republic City’s class divisions were not nearly as obvious as Ba Sing Se’s, but some parts of the city were definitely more poverty-stricken than others. That was one of the many problems he’d been trying to tackle since he became head of the United Republic Council.

Sokka boarded the train and snagged a window seat. The train sat in the station for an hour, waiting for last-minute stragglers to board. Thankfully, nobody tried to sit next to him. He rested his head against the cool glass of the window and sighed. It was nearing the wee hours of the morning, now, and his eyelids drooped. They snapped open when the train jerked into motion and finally, finally left the city.


	2. gimme shelter

For the next two days, in between admiring the scenery out the window and reading his favorite book of poems, he dozed fitfully. Although he didn’t have a problem sleeping in strange places, he didn’t _want_ to. He didn’t want to have nightmares that nearly sent him into a panic in front of a bunch of people he didn’t know, let alone on a train where he couldn’t leave if he needed to. 

So, he spent his time occupying his mind as best he could, and let himself hover in that hazy, in-between state of asleep and awake when he couldn’t. He particularly enjoyed exploring the little Earth Kingdom cities and villages the train stopped at on the way to Ba Sing Se, eager for an opportunity to stretch his stiff legs. The train would only sit in those places for an hour, like it had in Republic City, waiting for people to board. Then they would be on their way again.

By the time the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se was in view on the horizon, Sokka was more exhausted than he ever had been. Once the train reached the Outer Wall, they were ushered off to smaller monorails, which were, surprisingly, still powered by earthbenders. Sokka watched sluggishly as they traveled over the bright green agricultural fields that separated the Lower Ring and the Outer Wall. 

He scoffed and shook his head when he saw the conditions of the Lower Ring from above. It seemed the Earth King had more important things to worry about since the war ended than his destitute citizens. Sokka never had liked Kuei all that much. 

The Middle Ring passed below them in a blur until they reached the Upper Ring at last. His pack felt like it was filled with rocks as he hefted it onto his back and dragged himself off the monorail. After sitting on a train for two days, his left leg was screaming at him. It always hurt more the less he used it, but never this bad. Yakone must have done something to make it worse. He shuddered and pushed all thoughts of the man away from his mind.

The late morning sunlight woke him up a little as he trudged out of the train station and into the street, which was fairly crowded with shoppers. Snotty rich people shot curious, but mostly disgusted looks at his disgruntled state and his beat-up pack. He sneered at all of them and limped along faster, suddenly desperate to reach his destination.

The sight of the Jasmine Dragon was a welcome one as he rounded a corner and it came into view in all its glory. He made his way up the stairs slowly, taking a moment to watch the giant koi fish in the fountain that sat in front of the building. They reminded him too much of the Spirit Oasis at the Northern Water Tribe, which he didn’t want to add to the list of things cluttering his mind, so he gulped and continued on. 

The front doors were propped open. In the past, there had always been a hostess greeting him when he stepped over the threshold, but now there was none. Which was surprising, considering how crowded the place was. Nearly every table was occupied by citizens of the Upper Ring. Many of them turned to look at him as he made his way to the back of the shop, but he ignored their stares. He stopped in front of the counter, a smile growing on his face at the familiar waitress counting change behind it.

“Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said dully. Her frizzy black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she looked tired. She glanced over at him quickly, then looked back down to her coins, seeming uninterested, before her eyes widened and snapped up to meet his. A grin broke out on her face.

“Hey, Jin,” he said casually.

When Zuko had introduced all of them to Jin many years ago, they had gotten along like a house on fire. She fit right in with Team Avatar, especially when it came to tormenting Zuko. Sokka particularly liked her story about their first and only date when he pretended he was from the circus. She’d also revealed, to Zuko’s shocked dismay, that she had known he was a firebender from the moment he lit all of the lanterns around some fountain in the Lower Ring for her in an effort to be romantic. The story never failed to make him chuckle.

“Sokka! It’s so good to see you!” she laughed, coming around the counter to give him a short hug. “What are you doing here? I’m assuming you didn’t come all this way for the tea,” she joked, pulling away.

“I’m actually looking for Iroh. Is he around?” 

Her smile dimmed a little, then brightened again within a few seconds. “Oh, yeah! He’s upstairs in his apartment. But I think there’s someone else you should see first.”

He tilted his head curiously and she gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay beyond the door.

“─you have to knead it _in this pattern_ or it won’t─”

“That’s what I was doing!”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was.”

“Really? Your sticky dough says otherwise.”

“ _Y_ _our_ sticky dough says otherwise!”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“You don’t make sense!”

Jin cleared her throat and two heads whipped over to them standing in the doorway. Both Zuko and Izumi blinked at them owlishly. They were covered in flour that stood out on their dark red clothes and green aprons. Sokka noted distantly that there was some dusting Zuko’s bare cheek. He used to make fun of Zuko for not growing out a beard, but stopped when his friend had confessed that he thought he looked too much like his father the one time he tried it out.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Sokka? What are you doing here?” Zuko asked, wiping his hands on a towel. 

Sokka rolled his eyes and dodged the question by saying, “What are _you_ doing here? Shouldn’t you be in the Fire Nation, doing Fire Lord things?”

“I’m visiting Uncle,” Zuko replied dryly, striding over and throwing his arms around Sokka. He wasn’t expecting it, because Zuko had never been particularly affectionate. He also wasn’t expecting this hug to feel like being wrapped in the warmth of an igloo after spending all day in the cold, because every touch but his own was simultaneously too much and not enough ever since the trial. Before Sokka had a chance to return the hug, though, Zuko pulled back, nose wrinkled. “You stink. When was the last time you had a bath?”

Sokka felt heat rise in his cheeks and he crossed his arms defensively. “I just spent two days on a train. Give me a break.”

Zuko studied him for a moment, eyes sweeping over his no-doubt drained features. Not giving him the chance to ask why he looked like absolute shit, Sokka leaned sideways, peering around Zuko to look at Izumi. She was watching them with mild curiosity, arms crossed over her chest. The last time he’d seen her, which happened to be on Zuko’s last visit to Republic City a couple years back, she had been shorter and her cheeks rounder. Now, she looked much like the fifteen year old she was. He was almost affronted at how old he felt just from looking at her.

“I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten. You need to stop growing,” he said, pointing a finger at her in mock-accusation.

Zuko nodded. “I second that.”

Her lips twitched like she was struggling to hold back a smile. “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”

“You’d better. Now, where’s Iroh? I need to talk to him.”

“What? Why?”

Sokka looked at a painting on the wall and refused to meet Zuko’s eyes. “That’s not important.”

Zuko blinked and deflated a little. “He’s upstairs. Come with me.”

Confused, he followed Zuko to the stairs in the back of the kitchen that lead to Iroh’s apartment. When they were out of earshot of Jin and Izumi, he asked the question that had been niggling in the back of his mind.

“Why does everyone keep looking at me like I kicked their puppy whenever I mention your uncle?”

Zuko paused in front of him on his way up the stairs, forcing Sokka to stop too. He turned around and leaned against the railing, worrying his lower lip between his teeth before sighing and closing his eyes.

“He had a bad fall a couple weeks ago,” Zuko murmured, “and I came to make sure he was okay. He keeps acting like nothing happened, but I’m worried about him.”

Sokka nodded slowly, frowning. “How long are you staying?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve been here for a week already. Mai has things handled in the Fire Nation, for now. I think I’m going to stay for as long as I can.”

They continued up the stairs. Before Zuko opened the door to the apartment, he muttered, “He better be exactly where I left him this morning.”

Zuko called for his uncle when he opened the door. Based on the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he hurried towards the direction of Iroh’s voice, the older man had not, in fact, honored Zuko’s orders to stay put.

“Uncle, I told you to not to get up unless I was there! Why didn’t you─”

Sokka turned the corner into the kitchen just in time to see Iroh batting Zuko’s hands away from his arm.

“Stop your fussing. I’m _fine_ , I just got up to make some more tea.”

“You could have called for me, I was just in the kitchen downstairs,” Zuko growled, hands still hovering close to Iroh, ready to catch him if he fell.

“Ah, you would not have heard me,” Iroh said, waving his hand dismissively. “This old man cannot yell like he used to!” He finally noticed Sokka standing on the threshold to the kitchen, and turned to face him, hand braced on the counter. “Sokka, what a pleasant surprise!”

Sokka smiled at him. “How are you doing?” he asked kindly.

Iroh’s pleased expression didn’t waver, but there was something in those old eyes that didn’t seem to be telling the whole truth when he replied, “I am well.” He looked Sokka up and down and raised a questioning eyebrow. “What brings you here? You look troubled.”

Zuko tore his gaze from Iroh and squinted at Sokka, as if he was trying to figure out the answer to Iroh’s question himself. Sokka gulped and looked away. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say to Iroh. How was he supposed to explain that all of the trauma in his life seemed to be catching up to him all at once because of one unfortunate encounter with an evil waterbender? That he had gotten on a train to Ba Sing Se without giving it any thought because it seemed like the best option?

Iroh took his silence in stride. “That’s alright, you don’t have to tell me now. Zuko, get this man to bed. He looks like he needs it.” Iroh winked at Sokka and grabbed his cane.

“Wait, wha─” Zuko began, but Iroh had already shuffled away into the living room.

Sokka cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I can go.”

Zuko turned to him. “Absolutely not. You look awful.”

“Thanks, that means a lot,” he said sarcastically.

Zuko ignored him. “You can take a nap in my bed until dinner. But only if you bathe first.”

“What do you mean? I smell fine!” Sokka said playfully. He made a show of bringing his nose to his armpit and taking a deep breath, but the joke fell flat when he recoiled at his own scent. “Ugh, just kidding. You’re right. Remind me where the bathroom is?”

Zuko smirked and strode down a hallway, opening the door to a spacious bathroom with a beautiful mosaic floor. Without a word, he walked up to the stone bathtub, which had a well pump built into it. After filling the tub halfway with water, he rolled up his sleeves and stuck his hands in. The water began steaming a few moments later. Sokka tried not to be jealous that firebenders could have hot baths wherever they went, if they were so inclined.

Zuko straightened and brushed his wet hands over his pants. “Here you go. My room is that one right there.” He pointed to the door across the hall. “We’d offer you your own room, but Uncle only has two guest rooms and Izumi and I are using them,” he said apologetically.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Really. Thank you.”

Zuko gave him one last searching look before taking a step back the way they came. “I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready,” he muttered, before turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. Sokka heard him puttering around in the kitchen instead of going back down the stairs to the tea shop.

He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. There was a tall mirror in the corner next to the bathtub that had his entire body on display. He really _did_ look awful, worse than he had right after the trial. With a sigh, he took off his pack, setting it gently on the floor and pulling out some clean clothes. Looking in the mirror again, he tugged his hair out of its wolftail and let it fall to tickle his jaw. It was startling to him, in that moment, at how much he looked like his father. He brushed his fingers over the short, thick beard that he had let grow out since the trial, and wondered what his father was doing down in the Southern Water Tribe. Absently, he noted with a scowl the gray beginning to pepper his beard and the hair at his temples. Unable to stand his reflection anymore, he stripped his dirty clothes off and lowered himself into the tub.

The hot water helped his tired body relax so much that he nearly fell asleep. Katara would kill him if he died by drowning during a bath, so he gave himself a thorough washing up with the soaps kept in a basket next to the tub. The various scents helped him relax further, and by the time he was done, he felt much better than he had when he arrived.

He got dressed and walked across the hall to Zuko’s room, all but collapsing face-first on the neatly made bed. The smell of chrysanthemum tea forced his heavy eyes open. He spotted a steaming cup on the nightstand with a note tucked underneath a tea tray in Zuko’s fancy handwriting. 

_This will help you sleep. Drink it. I’ll know if you don’t._

Sokka snorted at the empty threat and placed the note back on the nightstand. The tea was at the perfect temperature to drink, and he hummed at the subtle sweet flavor of it as it hit his tongue. Under the taste of chrysanthemum, there was a hint of honey.

So Zuko had remembered, after all that time, that Sokka liked his tea with a little bit of honey. Interesting.

He drained the cup quickly and burrowed under the covers, pulling them over his head. The pillow he was using smelled like fire lily oil; he buried his nose in it and breathed in, relaxing further into the soft mattress until he fell asleep.

* * *

For the first time in two weeks, his sleep was blissfully dreamless. That didn’t make the hand shaking him awake any less terrifying, though.

He shot up from the blankets and gripped the wrist of the person touching him. There was a pained gasp, and then─

“Ow! What the fuck, Sokka?” Zuko snapped, yanking his arm out of Sokka’s grasp and rubbing his elbow where it had surely twisted uncomfortably. Sokka gaped at him, trying to process what had just happened through the fog of sleep in his brain and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

"Sorry, I─ You just scared me. I’m sorry.”

“I scared you?” Zuko asked, frowning at him. He looked less pissed and more concerned now. Sokka would rather have the anger.

“Yup. But I’m fine now. Everything’s fine.” He rubbed his eyes and swung his legs out of bed. “Is dinner ready?”

“Yes. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine! Let’s go eat.” Sokka pushed past him and hurried out the door to where he thought the dining room was. His assumption was correct. Iroh and Izumi were already seated next to each other at the table. A steaming basket of dumplings sat in the middle, the smell making Sokka’s mouth water. A growl ripped through his stomach.

Iroh smiled at him genially and gestured at the seat across from himself. “Come, sit!” 

Sokka did as he was told, tucking his loose hair behind his ears and trying not to look at Zuko pulling out the chair next to him to sit down.

“Did you buy these from somewhere?” Sokka asked, peering at the dumplings.

“Zuko made them,” Iroh said, smiling proudly at his nephew. “I taught him how many years ago, and he has since become an expert at it.”

Sokka’s eyes slanted to his left just in time to catch the light blush high on Zuko’s cheeks. “It’s not that hard,” he mumbled, fiddling with his chopsticks.

“You should show the palace staff how to make them,” Izumi said through a mouthful.

Zuko winced. “I don’t think that would go over well, seeing as some of them are still terrified of me.” Then, he added, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth, please.”

Izumi swallowed her food and grinned toothily at her father. Zuko rolled his eyes, but was unable to suppress a smile in return. Sokka’s heart warmed at the sight. Something in Zuko had healed when Izumi was born, a change that didn’t go unnoticed by those closest to him. It was like he had finally done something right, in his eyes; there were no terrible consequences when it came to Izumi, because she was his daughter and he loved her unconditionally. The way his parents should have loved him. Perhaps raising her was all he truly needed to sooth the scars that Ozai left on him as a child, not only physically, but mentally.

Sokka dug in along with everyone else, half-listening as they made small talk throughout the meal. He found himself going in for seconds, and thirds when Zuko laughed at him and said it was fine. One of his dumplings had fallen apart while he was eating it, and as he was painstakingly picking every last bit of food from his plate, Zuko brought up the last thing he wanted to talk about.

“So, I heard what happened in Republic City. Did you guys end up finding Yakone?”

Sokka stiffened and stared at his plate. “No. He left the city. We have no idea where he is now. But Aang took away his bending.”

 _How ironic_ , Sokka thought. He’d done the same thing as Yakone without even realizing, like a coward. It made anger boil in his stomach, to think of how weak he was. Running away from his problems like that would make anything better. His hand tightened around his chopsticks.

Zuko nodded slowly, taking a sip of tea. “I see,” he finally said. He was silent for a moment, then opened his mouth to say something else. Sokka suddenly felt like he had to do everything he could to prevent Zuko from asking more about it.

“How are things in the Fire Nation?” he blurted out, uncomfortably loud if the way all three firebenders were looking at him was any indication. He barrelled on, determined to take the attention off himself. “Busy, I presume, considering you haven’t visited me in almost two years.”

Zuko narrowed his eyes at him. “ _I_ haven’t come to visit you? What about you? You never come to the Fire Nation.”

Sokka waved a hand at him. “That’s different.”

“How so?”

“Because it’s the Fire Nation.”

Zuko considered that. “Okay. That’s understandable.”

Izumi’s chair scraped loudly on the floor as she pushed back from the table. “May I be excused? I don’t feel like listening to you two bicker.”

“We’re not─” Zuko sighed, deflating. “Oh, fine. Yes, you’re excused.”

Izumi picked up her plate and paused, looking down at her father. “I’m writing a letter to Mom tonight. Do you have anything you want to send her?”

Zuko shook his head, not meeting her eyes. “Just tell her to let me know when she needs us to come home.”

“Are you just going to avoid her forever?” Izumi asked with a raised brow. Sokka was shocked by how much she looked like Azula when she did that. He wondered if Zuko noticed the resemblance. It wasn’t enough to distract him from the questions popping into his head, though. Why would Zuko be avoiding Mai?

“Leave it, Izumi,” Zuko said, sounding tired. Like this was an argument they’d already had countless times.

She muttered something under her breath and exited the room, leaving the table in a tense, awkward silence. 

“Would anyone like some tea?” Iroh asked hesitantly.

“No,” Zuko grumbled, before taking his plate and storming out of the room without saying goodbye.

Iroh met his eyes from across the table. He looked amused. If anyone was used to Zuko’s dramatics, it was him.

“I’ll take some tea,” Sokka said, smiling at the older man.

Iroh reached for the teapot next to him, heating it with the palm of his hand. “I’ve been told that you wanted to speak to me,” he said casually.

The smile fell from Sokka’s face. He stayed silent as Iroh finished heating the tea and poured it into cups for each of them. He mourned the lack of honey at the table as he stirred the contents of his cup.

“Sokka,” Iroh began, unbothered by the one-sidedness of the conversation, “I’ve found that confiding in someone is very helpful when I’m stressed. Trust me, I would know. I am an old man, after all." That, if anything, was true. Iroh was nearly a century old. His hair had turned completely white over the years, and he’d lost weight somewhere down the line, too. But those eyes still twinkled with a spark of life.

Sokka looked into his tea cup like it held the answers to the universe. Where was he supposed to start?

“Ever since the trial, I’ve been having, uh, nightmares.”

Iroh hummed. “That is nothing to be ashamed of. You went through something very scary.”

Sokka huffed in frustration. “Yes, but─ it’s not just that. I’ve been having nightmares of things I haven’t thought about in _years_. Stuff from a long time ago that I barely think about anymore.”

Iroh took a thoughtful sip of tea. He was quiet for a while, studying the table and thumbing the edge of his cup. Finally, he murmured, “You have not let yourself deal with your past.”

Sokka recoiled. “What?”

The old man levelled him with a stare. “You say that you haven’t thought of these things for many years, yet they are plaguing your dreams. That means something.”

“Yeah, maybe that I’m fucked up beyond repair,” Sokka laughed humorlessly.

“No, Sokka. It means you need to take the time to reflect on your past, and the most significant events of your life. I suggest you think about how those things made you feel then, and how they make you feel now. Perhaps you will learn something about yourself that will prove helpful.”

Sokka nodded slowly, but really, he didn’t buy it. Purposefully spend time thinking about his worst moments? Yeah, no thanks. That’s not what he needed. What he needed was to escape the conversation.

“Would you mind if I crashed here? I kind of don’t have anywhere else to go,” he said sheepishly.

Iroh smiled at him. “Of course. You’ll have to sleep on the futon, I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay with me. Thank you.”

“You look like you could use some more rest,” Iroh said, considering him. “It’s my bedtime soon, anyway.”

After Iroh left, Sokka realized, belatedly, that the table hadn’t been cleared after dinner. Grasping for any excuse to not sleep, he carefully gathered the remaining dishes and carried them to the kitchen, only to see Zuko elbow-deep in soapy water already.

He sauntered over and nudged Zuko’s hip with his own to get him to make room. Zuko jumped, the spoon he was furiously scrubbing splashing back to the water as he dropped it in surprise. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he huffed, taking a step to his left so Sokka could dump the dirty dishes into the wash basin.

“Sorry,” Sokka said, not at all apologetic. He picked up a towel hanging over the edge of the basin and began to dry the clean plate Zuko handed him.

“So, you’ve talked to Uncle. Now what?” Zuko asked.

Sokka shrugged. “Haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Zuko shot him an incredulous look. “Really? I thought you were the man with a plan?”

He rubbed the plate he was drying more vigorously than was necessary. “Yeah, well. Not this time.”

Obviously, Zuko decided to ignore the guarded tone of Sokka’s voice and continued his incessant questioning. “Why are you really here, Sokka?”

“I don’t know!” he exploded. “Is it that hard to believe I don’t have a reason for every damn thing I do?”

Zuko stopped washing, a startled look on his face. “I─ no. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Guilt pooled in his stomach and he deflated. “No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

They went back to washing and drying, the sounds of music from some Upper Ring party down the street floating through the open window until Zuko spoke again.

“You know, I lied earlier when I told you why I’m here.” He paused and tilted his head. “Well, I didn’t actually lie. I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

Sokka looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Zuko took a deep breath. “It’s true that I came here because of my uncle. But… I also wanted to get away from Mai.”

Sokka raised his eyebrows. Mai and Zuko had been married for almost eighteen years, and together for longer than that. It was strange, hearing Zuko admit such a thing. “Trouble in paradise?” he prompted.

Zuko laughed bitterly. “You could say that. She left me for someone else.”

“What? Who?!” Sokka asked, gaping at his friend.

Zuko visibly hesitated, before muttering, “Ty Lee.”

“ _Ty Lee_?” he shrieked. 

“Would you keep your voice down? Yes, Ty Lee.” He pushed the last clean cup into Sokka’s hands for him to dry, all casual. Like he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on Sokka.

“So… Mai is attracted to women?”

“Obviously,” Zuko snorted.

“Does Izumi know?”

Zuko hummed the affirmative. He leaned back against the wash basin, not meeting Sokka’s eyes.

“Is she okay with it?”

“She was upset at first, but she got over that pretty quickly. Now all she does is worry about me. But she doesn’t have to. I’m fine with the whole thing, really. I think it’s been a long time coming. Mai has done so much for me and I just want her to be with someone who makes her happy, even if I’m not that person. It’s just…” He faltered, trying to find the right words. “I’m not sure how to act around her anymore. Everything is so _awkward_ now, and I had to get out of there. I don’t know what to do.”

Zuko let out a long breath when he was finished speaking, likely from relief that he was no longer carrying the weight of his words. Sokka didn’t like the helplessness showing on his friend’s face. He put the towel down and placed a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Zuko said, smiling weakly. “Just a little lonely, I guess.”

Sokka thought of his empty, cold apartment in Republic City. He thought of the hollow pit he sometimes got in his stomach whenever he saw Toph playing with Lin and Suyin, or Katara and Aang being all lovey-dovey in front of him. 

“I know the feeling,” he replied, earnest.

They looked at each other for a moment, and something seemed to pass between them. Maybe it was just him, but he felt a little less lonely after that.


	3. dreams

The smell of ash and smoke choked his lungs, and he could barely breathe or see or hear but he _could_ feel Toph’s sweaty hand slipping out of his. His stomach lurched at the cry of fear that escaped her mouth.

“It’s gonna be okay, Toph. I won’t drop you,” he told her, though he didn’t really believe it.

“It won’t be okay,” growled a voice. Sokka jerked his head towards the sound, only to see a tall figure looming over him, standing by his broken leg. The man’s face was shrouded in smoke, but there was something eerily familiar about the way he held himself.

“Who are you?” he barked at the man.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, and Sokka couldn’t stop the startled gasp that left his mouth. “Yakone,” he whispered, overcome with dread.

Yakone smirked and raised his hands. Suddenly, Sokka had no control over his body. He fought with every fiber of his being as Yakone wrenched his fingers free from Toph’s hand one-by-one until she fell into the roaring fire far below them. She screamed as she fell, and Sokka would scream with her if he was able to make a sound.

The feeling of that strange, outside force gripping his insides became more intense. His heart pounded in his ears as Yakone squeezed his muscles, his tendons, his organs, and it felt like his veins were going to burst and it hurt so bad and Toph was _dead_ ─

He woke up with a cry that rang through the silent living room, breathing heavily. He didn’t have time to process the nightmare as an overwhelming feeling of nausea forced him to his feet, the pain radiating from his left leg almost making him fall over. He stumbled to the kitchen and dropped to his knees in front of the waste basket, retching. Nothing but bile and spit came up, but it still burned anyway. Not a full minute had passed of him leaned over the basket, heaving and trying not to let the tears in his eyes fall, before he felt a warm hand on his shoulder and someone brushing his hair away from his face.

He turned his head just enough to see who it was through blurry vision. The smell of fire lily oil and the pale hand touching him was enough indication. It came as no surprise that Zuko was the one who heard him. He always had been a light sleeper.

The hand on his shoulder slid down to his back and started to move in slow circles. Eventually, his breathing evened out and the tears in his eyes subsided. He released his death grip on the edge of the basket and collapsed back on his heels, not meeting Zuko’s eyes.

“Do you want a cup of water?” Zuko whispered.

Sokka nodded, but regretted it when Zuko’s hand left his back and Sokka felt its absence like a punch in the gut. He didn’t say anything, though, as Zuko stood to get him some water, watching dazedly as he moved around the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he said quietly when Zuko crouched in front of him and handed him the cup. The water was cool, and soothed his raw throat as he drank.

“Do you need anything else?”

 _Your hand rubbing my back again?_ He sat in bewildered silence. Where had that thought come from?

Afraid something he didn’t intend to say would come out of his mouth, he only shook his head at Zuko and stood up. Zuko walked with him back to the futon and covered him with the blanket strewn on the floor after he laid down. Sokka knew the effort was futile; there was no way he’d be getting any more sleep, but he appreciated Zuko’s thoughtfulness nonetheless.

He stared down at Sokka after he let go of the blanket, the worry on his face showing clear as day in the moonlight shining through the doors to the balcony. He reached out with one hand, like he wanted to touch Sokka again, but drew it back after a moment of hesitation.

“You know where my room is if you need me,” he said, before turning and making an abrupt exit.

Sokka gazed at the now empty space that had just been occupied by his friend, and thought about anything but his recurring nightmare that hadn’t left him alone since the trial.

* * *

As he predicted, Sokka didn’t sleep another wink. Which meant he was exhausted the next day. He dragged himself between the kitchen of The Jasmine Dragon and the main room of the tea shop, helping Jin, Zuko, and Izumi with the morning rush. Helping, as in following Zuko like a lost polar bear-dog and chatting with customers here and there.

Zuko breathed out a frustrated sigh through his nose as he turned around, tray in hand, and almost ran into Sokka.

“How many times do I have to trip over you before you realize you’re in the way?” Zuko seethed.

Undeterred by Zuko’s anger, Sokka put a contemplative finger to his chin. “Hmmm, I’m not sure. We should really try and figure that out.”

Zuko groaned and shoved the tray in his hands. “Go give this to the couple out there.”

Sokka craned his neck, looking out the door of the kitchen to the many bodies in the main room. “Which one? There are so many people here.”

Zuko huffed and snatched the tray back. “Never mind. I’ll make Izumi do it.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Sokka asked.

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m the Fire Lord.”

Right. Sokka had almost forgotten, considering the fact that Zuko had his hair tied in a top knot that was starting to come loose, he was wearing an old green apron that had seen better days, and he really just looked like any ordinary frazzled server.

Sokka took the tray back. “I’ll bring this out on two conditions.”

“Go on,” Zuko said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently.

“One, I need to borrow some money so I can send a letter to Katara because you’re rich and I accidentally didn’t bring enough.” His eyes drifted to the counter behind Zuko, where a rack of egg custard tarts were cooling off. “Two,” he continued, “you let me eat as many of those custard things as I want.”

“Fine,” Zuko sighed. “But I can get your letter to Katara for free, and way faster than the stupid Ba Sing Se mail system.”

Sokka scrunched his nose up in confusion. “How?”

“You’ll see,” Zuko said, smirking. “Go bring that tray out and write your letter. We can go when the morning rush dies down.”

Sokka did just that. However, he found himself at a loss for words when he sat down to write Katara a letter. What was he supposed to say that would quell her worry (and probably anger, unfortunately) for him? He decided to keep it short and sweet, like the note he left in her kitchen.

_Dear Katara,_

_I’m in Ba Sing Se, staying with Iroh. I’ll probably be here for a while, I’m not sure how long. Let me know if the Council needs me._

_Sokka_

He didn’t mention that Zuko and Izumi were there too, though he wanted to. But that might convince her to come to Ba Sing Se, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Sokka rolled up the letter and went back downstairs to the tea shop’s kitchen. Zuko had already pulled on a hooded cloak and was waiting for him by the back door. Wordlessly, he held the door open for Sokka as they left the shop.

He didn’t ask any questions until they reached the train station. “Uh, where are we going?” he asked as Zuko paid for their tickets.

“The Outer Wall,” Zuko replied.

“How will that get my letter sent faster?” he whined.

“Be patient. I told you, you’ll see.”

He resisted the urge to snort. That was rich, coming from one of the most impatient people he'd ever met. He'd learned over the years, however, that Zuko's temper had mellowed with age, so perhaps that sentiment wasn't true anymore. Sokka resigned himself to waiting. They sat next to each other on the crowded monorail, shoulders and thighs brushing the entire ride. Zuko kept his head ducked so no one would see his face under the hood.

When they arrived, at the Outer Wall, Sokka followed Zuko’s brisk pace away from the monorail. In the distance, there was a guard’s outpost built into the wall. Zuko took off his hood, his hair even more disheveled than it had been before, and hefted himself up on the ladder of the tower. 

“Uh, are we allowed up here?” Sokka asked, glancing around. There weren’t any Dai Li in sight, but Sokka knew that didn’t mean anything based on his past experiences with them. He’d had enough altercations with corrupt police to last a lifetime, thanks.

“I don’t care if we are or not,” Zuko replied, climbing higher. “It won’t matter in a minute. No one will bother us then.”

Sokka rolled his eyes at Zuko’s cryptic words. He was _so_ dramatic. His curiosity won out, though, and he was on the top of the tower with Zuko a moment later.

“Now what?” Sokka asked, a breeze blowing through his hair. He’d been keeping it down since he arrived in Ba Sing Se. It felt weird, but he liked it because it made him feel like a different person; like he wasn’t the guy who spontaneously ran away from his problems.

Zuko pulled something small out from beneath his cloak and brought it to his lips. He blew into it, and a shrill whistle was carried away by the wind.

“Wait, is that what I think it is?” Sokka gasped.

Zuko just smiled and pointed behind him. Sokka spun around and there was Druk in all his glory, soaring towards them. A murmur went over the crowd of people still by the monorail, a few even screaming as Druk flew over. He gracefully landed on the edge of the tower, massive claws scraping against the rock. His long neck arced down so he could push Zuko with his head. Zuko laughed and brushed a hand over the dragon’s cheek. 

“Hey, buddy,” he said fondly. He glanced at Sokka, who was gaping at the pair. “What?”

“He got _really_ big,” Sokka squeaked.

Zuko chuckled and stroked Druk’s forehead. “He did. Kuei won’t let me keep him in the city because everyone thinks he’s scary.”

“I don’t blame them,” Sokka muttered, still wide-eyed as he watched Zuko pet Druk.

The dragon swung his head and huffed a cloud of smoke at Sokka. He jumped back, arms windmilling as he nearly fell over the edge of the tower. Zuko wrapped a hand around his bicep and dragged him forward. 

“Relax, he isn’t gonna hurt you,” Zuko said, amused. “Do you have that letter?”

Sokka handed the paper to Zuko and watched as he tucked it in Druk’s saddle. He whispered a few words to the dragon, running a hand over those beautiful red scales. It would be sweet, if Druk wasn’t so terrifying. 

Zuko spun around to face him, a glint in his eye as he asked, “Wanna go for a ride?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? Are you too much of a pig-chicken?”

Sokka narrowed his eyes. He didn’t care that they were in their forties and Zuko had just insulted him like a child would. He was never one to back down from a challenge.

“Fine, let’s do it.”

Zuko got on the saddle first and held out a hand to Sokka. He hesitated before grabbing it and hoisting himself up. Zuko grasped the reins and sent a grin back at him. 

“Ready?” he asked. Sokka opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a yelp as Zuko gave the reins a yank and Druk launched them into the air with a flap of his wings. Sokka scrambled to wrap his arms around Zuko’s waist, hanging on for dear life as they flew away from the Outer Wall.

They slowed down a bit once they were further into the countryside. Sokka tightened his arms around Zuko, leaning forward and resting his chin on his shoulder. Zuko held the reins one-handed and brought the other up to squeeze Sokka’s forearm. The touch made his breath hitch for some reason, and he closed his eyes at the sensation of dizziness that overcame him. It was probably because they were really high in the air. _Yeah, that must be it_. He tucked his head further into Zuko’s warm neck, breathing in the sweet floral scent that seemed to follow him everywhere, and didn’t let himself think about it too much.

After their little joyride, Zuko murmured something to Druk and sent him on his way. They stopped for a late lunch in the Middle Ring. Sokka ate two bowls of noodles and finished off Zuko’s, who looked on in mild disgust and amusement. His disgust turned to concern when they entered The Jasmine Dragon through the back and Sokka made a beeline for the egg custard tarts, shoving one in his mouth and grabbing two more.

“What’s the matter with you? Aren’t you full?” Zuko asked, a blush staining his cheeks as Sokka moaned obscenely around another bite of the treat. Who knew Zuko was such a good cook?

“I’m a stress eater,” he replied through his mouthful. 

“You must be pretty stressed.”

 _Uh-oh_. This was dangerous territory he’d unknowingly stepped into. He laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, you know me. Always stressing over… things.”

Zuko raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Riiight,” he said, drawing out the word. He gestured to the remaining pastries. “Do you want to help me make another batch of those? Uncle wants me to test them out in the shop tomorrow, see how people like them.”

Sokka grinned and grabbed his fourth tart. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. These are delicious. But yeah, I’ll help.”

The rest of their afternoon was spent cooking. Zuko made Sokka do easy tasks, like stirring the custard for a mind-numbingly long time while he applied the perfect amount of heat with his bending. It was fun, watching him cook. He was so confident in the way he moved around the kitchen. He did everything with the same focus and precision that he would use in a battle, which Sokka found endlessly funny. Even for the small things, like kneading dough.

For a while, Sokka let go of his worry and listened to Zuko as he bossed him around the kitchen. And if his eyes lingered on Zuko’s strong hands and forearms while he folded the dough for the tarts over and over, well, that wasn’t anyone’s business but his.

* * *

The next week passed uneventfully. Sokka spent most of his time in the tea shop, practically delirious in his exhaustion and eating the delicious pastries that Zuko expertly made. Unfortunately, being away from Republic City hadn’t done much for his distress regarding the trial. He slept fitfully, and rarely left The Jasmine Dragon or Iroh’s apartment. Katara had sent a letter back at some point, but to his surprise, it was addressed to Zuko. Apparently, she was too angry to talk to Sokka, and she knew he was with Zuko based on the fact that his letter had been sent via Druk. She’d told their friend to make sure Sokka didn’t do anything else stupid while he was away.

On his eighth night in Iroh’s home, Sokka was wrenched from sleep by the same nightmare. He laid there, practically vibrating, as the phantom smell of ash lingered in his nose and his leg pulsed with pain.

He was getting incredibly sick of waking up like that.

He sat up on the futon, the room spinning with how tired he was. Sokka squinted at the never-ending sea of the city’s twinkling lights beyond the balcony. His drooping eyes drifted to the kitchen and he found himself thinking about the calming cup of chrysanthemum tea that Zuko had made for him when he first arrived.

Instead of stopping in Iroh’s kitchen, he went to the stairs that would bring him down to the tea shop. It would be better to make himself some tea there, considering how loud he was. The deafening silence of the rest of the apartment made every one of his steps sound like a sabertooth moose lion, but he couldn’t help it; the pain in his leg caused him to walk with an awkward gait so as to avoid putting any extra weight on it.

He struggled down the stairs and noted absently that the oil lamps in the kitchen were lit. _Huh_. Zuko must have forgotten to put them out when they closed up for the night. But Sokka was grateful for it, as it made his task of looking for the right tea blend much easier. A jar of chrysanthemum leaves sat in the pantry among various other obscure tea combinations. He set to work making a pot for himself, but found that his hands were shaking too much to use the spark rocks that he nabbed from the counter. After a couple failed attempts to light the stove, he tried again and they clattered to the floor. He cursed and crouched down to pick them up, only to shriek as he noticed Zuko sitting at the table in the corner of the kitchen.

“How long have you been there?” Sokka gasped, holding a hand to his pounding heart. Between the nightmare and Zuko scaring him, Sokka had enough adrenaline coursing through his veins to get him through a fight at this point.

Zuko looked at him, unimpressed. “Long enough.” He took a sip from the steaming cup in his hands and got up to heat the pot himself.

“What are you doing up?” Sokka asked. 

“I couldn’t sleep. Why are _you_ awake? Did you have another nightmare?”

Sokka’s shoulders hunched with tension. “Yeah.”

“Do you have them a lot?” Zuko prompted.

“Every night,” Sokka snapped. 

Zuko was quiet after that. Sokka collapsed at the table and tracked Zuko’s every move as he poured the tea into a cup and added just the right amount of honey. Watching him prepare the perfect cup of tea, Sokka suddenly felt bad for being so standoffish. Zuko obviously just wanted to help him.

“So, uh… why couldn’t you sleep?” Sokka asked, breaking the awkward silence. Maybe it was hypocritical to start pestering _Zuko_ with the prying questions, but he didn’t particularly care in his tired state.

Zuko grimaced as he handed Sokka the hot cup and sat down. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

Zuko looked down at his hands and mumbled something indecipherable. Sokka frowned.

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said that… sometimesIhaveahardtimesleepingalone,” Zuko rushed out.

Sokka blinked at him. “Oh.”

Maybe Zuko wasn’t handling his break-up with Mai as well as he’d originally thought. He did say before that he was lonely, didn’t he? 

Another silence fell over the room. Zuko was visibly agitated, tapping his fingers on the table and eyes darting everywhere until finally, they met Sokka’s.

“I have an idea.”

“Hit me,” Sokka said with a yawn.

“What if we shared my bed?” Sokka’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline, and Zuko rushed to explain. “That way I could wake you up if you’re having a nightmare and I could… well, I won’t be by myself anymore.”

Sokka tilted his head in consideration. It wasn’t a bad idea, and the thought of having someone familiar to wake him up before his dreams got too bad was comforting. Plus, the futon was wreaking havoc on his aging back, and sleeping in a real bed sounded amazing. He’d made his decision, but he wanted to see Zuko squirm first.

“Are you trying to sleep with me?” he asked, delighting in the blush that instantly appeared on Zuko’s face.

“No! O-of course not! I meant sleeping, as in sleeping next to each other, without touching. Not whatever you’re implying. Definitely not that. I wasn’t─” He cut himself off when he saw Sokka’s shoulders shaking with barely concealed laughter. “I take it back. You can stay on the futon.”

“No! Wait,” Sokka laughed, “I was going to say we should try it. I think it would help.”

“Yeah?” Zuko asked, now sounding endearingly timid.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

They finished off what was left in their cups and went back upstairs to Zuko’s room. The chrysanthemum tea coupled with sleep deprivation had done its job, and Sokka swayed on his feet in Zuko’s doorway. Now that he was actually _in_ Zuko’s room, he felt a lot less sure of himself. Until Zuko climbed under the covers, pulling them up to his chin and patting the mattress next to him. The sight made his stomach roll unpleasantly. He probably just needed to sleep.

And sleep he did.

When he floated back to consciousness, he was so comfortable and sated from finally getting a good night of rest that he buried deeper into his warm pillow, sighing contentedly. 

Until his pillow began to talk.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Zuko deadpanned.

Sokka scrambled back and was mortified to see that he’d been snuggling into Zuko’s stomach rather than one of the many pillows on the bed. His eyes drifted up Zuko’s torso to his face. He didn’t look mad, at least. The light from the window bathed him in a golden glow, and _shit, did Zuko always look this pretty?_

“Uh, sorry,” Sokka rasped, his still sleepy brain trying to process what was happening. “What time is it?”

“Midday.”

“Midday? And you’re still in bed? Don’t you usually get up at sunrise?”

“I tried. But you wouldn’t let me get up. It seems you’re quite the persistent cuddler,” Zuko said, smirking. Ah, so that must be why Zuko was propped up weird on the pillows, like he had made an effort to leave the bed and failed because Sokka was using his _stomach_ as a _pillow_. He felt his cheeks flush.

“Again, sorry,” Sokka said, running a hand through his bed head. “Why didn’t you just wake me up?”

Zuko laced his hands together and rested them on his chest. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you because I know you’ve been tired.”

Sokka would be more embarrassed if he didn’t feel so well-rested. Zuko was right. He _had_ been tired. Even years before he started having nightmares about Yakone, he hadn’t slept so well. There was always something to get him out of bed ─ a United Republic Council meeting, babysitting his niece and nephews or even Toph’s kids, or his overall inability to waste a morning sleeping in when he could be doing something productive. This time, though, he wasn’t upset about the fact that his entire morning was gone. It may have had something to do with the sight of a sleep-rumpled Zuko in front of him, but he pushed that thought away.

“Thank you,” he murmured, wondering if Zuko even realized how much he meant it.

“It wasn’t a problem. Besides, I slept well, too,” Zuko replied, getting up and stretching his arms above his head. The loose sleep shirt he was wearing rode up a little, and Sokka found himself staring at the exposed sliver of skin. He swallowed hard and looked away. Where were all these thoughts coming from, and why in _La’s_ name could he not get rid of them?

“Well, I’m glad I could be of assistance,” he said, shooting Zuko a strained smile.

“The shop is closed today,” Zuko said, strolling over to his wardrobe and peering inside with a hand on his hip. “Izumi and I were going to walk down to the market. Would you like to join us?”

Sokka sat up and pressed his palms to his eyes as the room began spinning. It was possible that he had gotten _too much_ sleep, if his dizziness was any indication. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he dropped his hands from his face and caught sight of Zuko pulling on a green long-sleeved shirt that looked comfortable, yet still hugged his figure nicely. He didn’t realize he was staring until his mind registered that Zuko was calling out to him.

“Sokka?”

His eyes jerked up to meet Zuko’s concerned ones, and he remembered that Zuko had asked him a question. “Oh. Yeah, I’ll come with,” he finally replied.

“Alright. Get dressed,” Zuko said, tossing some of his newly washed clothes at him from across the room and leaving, the door clicking softly shut behind him. 

Sokka clutched the shirt and pants in his hands, gathering his thoughts for a moment before he left the bed to get dressed. He wasn’t sure why, between all of the nightmares and generally horrible memories plaguing his mind, his thoughts kept lingering on how Zuko looked. But it made him uneasy, especially because he couldn’t seem to control or get rid of those thoughts. Though he’d be lying to himself if he said that he’d never let his gaze remain on Zuko for longer than it should have, this time was different. Perhaps he could blame his pesky attraction on the fact that he hadn’t seen Zuko in a couple years, or his friend’s sudden lack of a relationship.

It wasn’t as though Sokka had never been with a man. No, that wasn’t the problem. Republic City had a diverse community, and there were several memorable nights where Sokka wandered from tavern to tavern until he left with someone on his arm─men, women, and others. It was never serious, of course. They were just flings. But Zuko, without question, was one of his best and closest friends. Zuko _wasn’t_ a fling. There was no way he would act on his feelings if it meant messing up what they had taken such a long time to build. Plus, Zuko was the Fire Lord, another reason on the steadily-growing list in his head on why he needed to ignore how he felt. Which was something he was becoming increasingly skilled at since the trial.

Unfortunately, Zuko was hard to ignore. Everything he did begged Sokka’s attention. As they walked to the market that was a few blocks away from The Jasmine Dragon, Sokka couldn’t take his eyes off the way Zuko smiled down at Izumi. The slope of his back. The subtle confidence in his stride, even underneath the dark cloak he was wearing. He sighed to himself and turned to the nearest stall. Maybe if he just didn’t look at Zuko, everything would be fine.

The stall he happened upon was stacked with ripe, juicy looking moon peaches. Sokka brushed his hand over the soft surface of one, it’s skin glowing pink and orange in the afternoon sunlight. He picked it up and tossed it back and forth between his hands, mind wandering to Momo. A fond ache settled in his chest as he thought of the lemur. Momo had died many years ago, having peacefully slipped away in his sleep. Aang was heartbroken when they found him, but not surprised. Momo lived longer than most lemurs thanks to Katara’s healing abilities. Sokka would never admit it to anyone, but he’d cried silent tears when he received the news back home in the Southern Water Tribe.

As he gazed down at the peach in his hands, he thought of the day they found Momo. The day he’d scrounged up some fruit for them, including moon peaches, which had earned him a spot on their team and a name to go with it. _Momo_. Moon peach. The day they’d discovered what really happened to the Air Nomads. A horrible image formed in his mind, unbidden, of the limp orange and yellow robes of Monk Gyatso settled gently over his skeleton, the bones and armor of Fire Nation soldiers surrounding him.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, the feeling of someone brushing up to his side startled him into looking down. It was only Izumi, examining a moon peach and seemingly unaware of his inner turmoil. He blew out a shaky breath. She glanced up at the noise, narrow eyes glinting golden in the sunlight. For a moment, he was grateful for the reprieve from his mind.

Then she started talking.

"So," she began, sweet yet sly the way only a teenage girl could be, "I saw you with my dad this morning."

He stared hard at the peach in his hands and decided to feign indifference. "Oh, yeah? Doing what?"

"Cuddling, it looked like," she said, a smirk growing on her face.

"We weren't _cuddling_ ," he grumbled, his grip on the peach tightening until juice ran down his fingers.

"You keep telling yourself that," Izumi muttered. She took the bruised peach from him and sighed. "Now we have to buy this. Though I'm sure Dad can make something sweet out of it."

Sokka watched her add the squished peach and several more to the basket at her hip before placing some coins on the wooden counter of the stall. He wanted to be angry with her, but Izumi was right. They _were_ cuddling this morning (or Sokka had been, at least). But it didn't matter. He didn't need these nightmares, these memories, or these feelings, and certainly not a nosy teenager reading into things too much.

When he turned away from the stall after she finished paying, sucking the sticky juice from his fingers, he caught Zuko's eye from a distance. Those bronze eyes, hawk-like in their color and intensity, flitted from his fingers, to his mouth, and back up to meet his. As the flavor of peach juice spread over his tongue, and those eyes never wavered from his, he wondered if maybe Izumi wasn't reading into things too much, after all.


	4. landslide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still not sure how i feel about the way this chapter turned out, but here it is! i highly suggest listening to 'landslide' by fleetwood mac before or during reading this because i feel like it really fits sokka's mood for this chapter/story. 
> 
> trigger warning for a panic attack

When they returned from the market, Sokka, Zuko, and Izumi spent the rest of the afternoon cooking dinner in the kitchen of the tea shop, which was much bigger than Iroh’s kitchen in his upstairs apartment. Once dinner was ready, Zuko disappeared up the stairs, and came back shortly after with Iroh in tow, a hand under the old man’s arm to assist him as they descended the steps slowly. Sokka had noticed, throughout his stay, that Zuko tried to bring Iroh down to the shop a few times a week. There was always a visible improvement in his mood those days. He found it sweet.

After dinner (which consisted of Sokka eating twice as much as the people around him), Zuko and Izumi got started on preparing a batch of sticky rice with the moon peaches that they bought at the market. Iroh was settled across from him at the table, in the same seat Zuko had been last night. They were both immersed in an evenly matched game of Pai Sho.

“You seem well-rested, Sokka. Have you been feeling better?”

Sokka, one hand stroking his beard, snapped out of the concentrated haze he always fell into when he was planning his next move. “Oh, yeah. A little,” he replied absently. 

He heard an amused huff and glanced to his right where Izumi was failing to hide a smirk behind her hand. Zuko, humming to himself and oblivious to the conversation, was slicing peaches next to her. The muscles of his shoulders shifted enticingly under his shirt as he did so. Annoyed, Sokka turned back to the game and fought the heat rising to his cheeks. 

Later, when Zuko handed him a heaping bowl of sticky rice with peach slices laid lovingly on top, Sokka avoided his gaze in favor of shoveling a spoonful of the dessert in his mouth. 

* * *

If Sokka was going to ignore his feelings for Zuko, then that meant cuddling was out of the question. So that was why, in order to prevent his traitorous body from disobeying him in his sleep, he began to set up a line of pillows down the middle of Zuko’s bed after he got under the covers. Zuko shot him a puzzled look when he walked into the room, gently pulling a comb through his damp hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure we don’t have a repeat of last night,” Sokka replied, stacking another pillow on top of the growing pile at the head of the bed.

( _Why_ did Zuko have so many pillows?!)

“Oh.”

Sokka’s face scrunched up in confusion at Zuko’s tone. He almost sounded… dejected? But that couldn’t be right. He looked over only to see that Zuko’s features were carefully blank. Sokka didn’t realize that hope had fluttered in his chest until it died away at Zuko’s expression, or lack thereof. Of course it was just wishful thinking on his part. Of course he was already letting his feelings get away from him. Which was why he needed to make sure his pillow wall was perfect.

But perhaps he had made it _too_ perfect. After a while of both of them tossing and turning, of quietly sighing in frustration, Sokka finally drifted into a fitful sleep. 

His nightmare started out like it normally did. He told Toph he wouldn't drop her, only for Yakone to pry his clammy fingers away from hers until she fell to her death. Yakone bent his bones, his muscles and tendons and veins and _blood_ until he was in so much pain he could barely think. That was when he was supposed to wake up. 

This time, he didn’t wake up. 

It was excruciating to not be in control of his body. He writhed in agony on top of the metal, his broken leg screaming at him as the rest of his body cracked and ground while it was warped in directions that it was never meant to be. At one point, with a maniacal laugh, Yakone flipped him onto his stomach. He wheezed as his chest slammed into the metal of the airship. 

Through blurry vision, he peered into the fiery sea below them. What he saw was worse than any pain Yakone could inflict. Everyone he loved─everyone he couldn’t _save_ ─gazed up at him, screaming out for help. For his help. Toph, Suki, Katara, his parents, his poor mother, engulfed in flames. She was faceless, as she always had been in his dreams, but he knew it was her. Their eyes reflected the red of the ashy sky. He strained against Yakone’s hold on him, but it was no use. He wasn't strong enough. He couldn't save them. They were going to die. They were burning alive, and he had to watch, had to smell their flesh as the flames licked up their bodies, had to─

He jerked upright from the silky sheets, sucking in sharp lungfuls of air that hurt his chest. The sweat rapidly cooling on his body made him shiver, a motion that didn't cease once it began. A movement to his right frightened him and he whipped his frantic eyes over to see none other than Zuko. Zuko, wide-eyed with a hesitant arm stretched out towards Sokka, hovering near him but not quite touching. 

"Are you okay?" Zuko whispered. 

Sokka tried to reply, he really did. But when he opened his mouth to speak, to say _I'm fine_ , his breath caught in his throat and nothing came out but an awful, low keening sound. He clamped his mouth shut, but his breath was escaping him in uncontrollable whimpers now, and there was heat building up behind his eyes that got worse with every second that passed. Pressing the heels of his hands into them didn’t stop the tears from coming, or the sobs that followed. It felt like there was a dam inside him, holding everything back. But it was old, as old as him, cracking and ready to break. It couldn't take much more of his repression. 

A gentle pair of arms wrapped around him, and Zuko murmured reassurances in his ear. 

The dam broke. 

He tilted into Zuko's chest, gripping the back of his sleep shirt tightly, and let himself unravel. He couldn't think around the sobs that were wrenched from deep within him, from a place he had neglected for far too long. That, at least, was apparent; this breakdown wasn't caused by a single nightmare. It came from a lifetime of hidden anger and sorrow, buried so far down that he was able to ignore it and get on with his days. But that was no way for someone to live. Realistically, it was only a matter of time until he broke. That didn’t console him any, though. No amount of time could make him feel any less weak than he did right then. 

Zuko held Sokka close to his chest, one hand placed firmly on the back of his head and another rubbing up and down his spine soothingly. Despite those touches, he felt his breathing pick up to an alarming rate as he jumped rapidly from one memory to another. In his head, he pictured his life's greatest hits on repeat.

Words bubbled out of him between sobs before he could stop them. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Zuko. It hurts. It hurts _so_ bad,” he choked out. 

"What hurts?" Zuko whispered, a bit frantically. But Sokka couldn’t answer in his current state. He wasn't sure he even knew what hurt he was referring to anymore. 

Was it briefly losing control over his body during Yakone's trial? Was it holding on to Toph's hand for dear life so she didn't fall to her death on the day of Sozin's Comet, and continuing to do so in his dreams almost every night since? Was it watching the Fire Nation raid his village and kill his beloved mother, only to have his father leave him a couple years after that? Or maybe, was it the fact that he wasn't a bender? That he couldn't protect his friends because he was born without the ability to call on an element and use it to his advantage? Was it because he had a bum leg that worked less the older he got? Was it the fear that he was running out of time? And time for what, he didn’t know. But it felt like he wasn’t doing enough. _He_ didn’t feel like enough.

“Sokka, hey. You need to breathe.”

The feeling of Zuko’s hands cupping his cheeks was surprising enough to briefly jerk him out of his own head. The sudden awareness allowed him to note that his face was soaked with tears, his breath was hitching with sobs, and he was hyperventilating. Every breath shuddered through him with immense effort and his lungs were burning so painfully that he started to panic even more. Dully, he registered that Zuko was still speaking to him. He fought through the haze in his brain and struggled to listen.

“I want you to breathe with me, okay? Sokka? Can you do that for me?” Zuko’s voice was quiet, but it was laced with fear and desperation. Through blurry vision, he watched as Zuko’s fingers gently circled his wrist and pressed his trembling hand flat to his chest. It was warm even through the shirt he had worn to bed.

Zuko ducked his head a little to make eye contact with Sokka, then took an exaggerated breath, never letting go of him all the while. Sokka felt his firm chest rise and fall under his hand, a flash of heat accompanying it. The warmth under his palm was grounding; a sure way to keep track of his breaths. So he did his best to inhale when he felt the heat growing, and exhale as it disappeared. Inhale, exhale. Warmth, and its absence.

Eventually, his breathing returned to normal. But shivers still wracked his frame, and not even the fire brimming under Zuko’s skin was enough to quell them. 

When Zuko was satisfied with the pace of his breaths, he scooted closer to Sokka and reached up to wipe his tears away. Soft fingers brushed his hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ears, before dropping to his lap and taking both of his shaking hands in a tender grip. He kept trying to meet Sokka’s eyes, but Sokka evaded him every time. He knew he couldn’t avoid the questions forever, but the depth of his hurt seemed impossible to voice. _I guess having a rude awakening about how traumatized I actually am isn’t enough to get me to talk about it_ , he thought bitterly. Suddenly, he remembered what Iroh said to him when he first arrived in Ba Sing Se, that he had to _reflect on his past_ , and silently cursed him for being right the entire time despite seeking his advice in the first place.

Amid the hush that had fallen over the room, Zuko began to run his thumbs back and forth over Sokka’s hands. The touch was a welcome comfort, and if Sokka was in his right mind, he would have been swooning over how achingly sweet it was. Except, he wasn’t in his right mind; he was at his lowest point. He’d hit rock bottom. Obviously, he knew that he didn’t owe Zuko anything for offering comfort. But guilt still welled up in his chest when he realized he had nothing to give, not even when it came to simply sharing his thoughts about why he’d reacted so poorly to a nightmare. Zuko wasn’t stupid, either. By now, he’d seen and heard enough to come to the conclusion that Sokka woke up frequently, terrified of his past.

Outside, the loud crack of rock against a building in a nearby street broke the silence so suddenly it made him flinch and close his eyes. The sound was followed by glass breaking and the screaming of rowdy teenagers, who were most likely some young earthbenders messing around in the middle of the night. Again, he thought of Toph, and the dull pain in his chest flared. Zuko’s grip tightened on his hands and he leaned further into Sokka's space. When Sokka opened his eyes again, he reluctantly glanced at Zuko. He was staring at him pleadingly, like he wanted Sokka to talk but was too scared to push him. Maybe it was that earnest, hopeful look on Zuko’s face that made him suddenly feel like words were crawling their way up his throat, ready to spill out of him unbidden.

"What has been the scariest moment of your life?" he asked Zuko before he could stop himself. Briefly, he regretted blurting out the first thing that came to mind without thinking first, but instead of taking back his question, he decided to let the conversation flow like water. Going with the flow wasn't exactly something he was proficient at, especially when it came to having a heart-to-heart that exposed his fears, but he'd begrudgingly realized that holding it all in wasn't doing him any favors. And who better to have that discussion with than Zuko? Zuko, who had been hurt so much throughout his life yet overcame his trauma despite having the odds stacked against him. 

Sokka waited patiently, watched as Zuko's expression morphed from surprise at the question to thoughtful contemplation. He expected Zuko's scariest moment to be something like _when Ozai burnt my face_ , or _when I first redirected lightning_ , or even _when I had to fight my sister in an Agni Kai_. He was wholly unprepared for Zuko to finally say, "When I held Izumi for the first time." 

"What?" Sokka croaked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He winced at the hoarseness of his own voice.

Zuko shot him a small, lopsided smile. "I know, it sounds crazy after everything we've seen. But it's the truth."

"Care to elaborate?" Sokka muttered. He rubbed his eyes, crusty and irritated from crying so hard.

Zuko was silent again, for a long time. Sokka's entire body ached, and he would have fallen asleep right then if his heart wasn't still stuttering with nerves and the occasional shiver wasn't rushing over him. Instead, he tilted until his head was resting on Zuko's shoulder and settled in to wait. Absently, Zuko wrapped an arm around his waist, chewing on his lip in thought.

Zuko's voice was hushed when he began speaking. "When I held her for the first time, it was like─I had the whole world in my arms. She wasn't heavy, but I was so worried that I would drop her. I thought my hands seemed too dirty even though they were spotless. And… it felt like if I looked at her for too long, she would burst into flames." Zuko stared down at his hands, one still holding Sokka's. Sokka squeezed it, encouraging him to continue.

"She was so beautiful. Still is. Of course, I’d held a baby before. But this was different, because she was _my_ baby. And it hit me that she was completely brand new, and innocent, and─” Zuko gulped and hung his head for a moment, jaw clenched. He took an unsteady breath before continuing. “I realized that I would do anything for her. I would die for her. It scared me, how much I loved someone I’d only just met, because I’d never experienced that with anyone else. But I think I felt that way even before she was born. I just didn’t know it until her little head was cupped in my hand and she was looking up at me.”

Before he could stop it, jealousy welled up inside of him, accompanied by a pang of loneliness. “Well. I wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

Zuko nudged him with his shoulder. “Hey, there’s still plenty of time for you to have children.”

“Is there, though?”

Zuko hummed in confusion next to him. “Of course. Why wouldn’t there be?”

Sokka puffed out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know. Never mind.” 

So. This whole opening-up thing was going swimmingly. Figures that as soon as Zuko started prodding him, he closed himself off like a clam. The worst part was that he _knew_ there was no harm in it, that it probably would help him to talk. That didn’t make it any easier to actually go through with it.

“What about you?” Zuko asked quietly.

“What do you mean, what about me?”

“What has been the scariest moment of _your_ life?”

Sokka froze. He hadn’t expected Zuko to turn that question back on him, but he should have known better. An empty smile took over his face, and he lifted his head from Zuko’s shoulder to put some space between them.

“I don’t know. There are too many to pick from.”

Zuko turned to face him with a frown. “Sokka… What do you dream about?”

Sokka stiffened and clenched his hands in the blanket pooled in his lap. He stared at the door in front of the bed, shrouded in darkness, and didn’t answer.

Zuko hesitated at Sokka’s lack of response before continuing. “Look, I know it’s hard to talk about this stuff. But keeping it all in isn’t the answer. I can see how much you're hurting.”

“When did you get so wise?” Sokka quipped.

That earned him an exasperated look from Zuko. “I’ve been in your place before. You can talk to me, Sokka. You can tell me anything. I just want to help you.”

Those words brought fresh tears to his eyes, and he didn’t bother stopping them from falling. He looked up at the ceiling, defeated. Zuko had already seen him at his worst tonight. He didn’t have to hide anymore.

Zuko seemed alarmed that he was crying for the second time in the span of an hour. Again, he moved closer, hands hovering uncertainly near Sokka. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry. You don’t have to─”

Sokka laughed wetly. “Spirits, Zuko. It’s okay.” He wiped his face of tears for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, and sighed tiredly. “It’s because of Yakone. Sort of.” 

“Yakone?”

So, he told him. He told him about Yakone's trial, how terrifying and painful it was to lose control of his body. He told him about how even Aang and Toph were powerless against the waterbender. He told him about how sore he was the day after, about the bone-deep wariness that wouldn't leave him alone. About the nightmares of memories from the most terrible parts of his mind, rattled loose by bloodbending after years of being brushed aside. Moments that were tucked out of sight, moments that he thought he could keep covered up forever. He told him about his recurring nightmare, how he dreaded sleeping because of it, how it forced him out of Republic City because he feared he wouldn't be able to hide how much he was struggling. How he was drawn to Ba Sing Se with the overwhelming urge to _get away_ , to find comfort somewhere familiar where he wouldn't be recognized easily. To find something or someone who could help him ignore, forget, push it all down again.

Though it seemed it was inevitable that he would break eventually. After all, he'd only been there for a little over a week and he'd still had nightmares every night ( _Not when you were plastered on top of Zuko_ , a voice in his head supplied, making him cringe internally), which had apparently been building up to a dramatic meltdown, one that Zuko had helped him through.

When he was finished explaining himself, it left him exhausted. Not waiting for a response from Zuko, he shuffled down with a tired sigh and curled up under the blankets again. Instead of doing the same, Zuko began to deconstruct the pillow wall that Sokka had built earlier. 

"Hey, why are you taking that down? Otherwise I'll hog the bed like I did the other night."

"We don't need it," Zuko said firmly.

Sokka was too tired to argue, but his stomach rolled nervously at the thought of waking up clinging to Zuko again. Nervous, because he didn't want to intrude. Nervous, because of how much he wanted it to happen. And relieved, because he knew he wouldn't have any more nightmares that night if Zuko was pressed against him. If he was being honest with himself, the reason his nightmare had been worse than normal was probably because he made the pillow wall, effectively cutting himself off from any warmth or comfort Zuko’s body could give in sleep.

Zuko threw a substantial number of pillows to the floor before he settled down on his side, facing Sokka. He was much closer than Sokka anticipated he would be. Trying to put some space between them, he started to shuffle back to his side of the bed, but a hand touching his own stopped him. Surprised, he met Zuko's kind gaze.

"Thank you."

"Uh, for what?" Sokka asked, unsure why Zuko was thanking him. What could Sokka have possibly done that warranted a thank you? Waking up Zuko in the middle of the night? Having a complete breakdown in front of him? Spilling all of his problems onto him? 

"For… talking to me. You know, for trusting me."

Sokka clutched his hand a little tighter. "Oh. You're welcome? I mean, you don't have to thank me. If anything, _I_ should be thanking _you_ ─"

"No, stop," Zuko interrupted. "I care about you. Listening to you is the least I can do as your friend. How many times have you heard my sob stories? You're not alone in this, Sokka. I─I need you to know that, okay?"

With difficulty, Sokka swallowed hard and nodded in lieu of replying. Zuko had rendered him speechless. He blinked the water out of his eyes, because he was _not_ going to cry again. 

The weight that he’d been carrying for so long seemed to have lessened, slightly. In an odd way, it was still heavy, still a burden for him to carry, but at the same time he felt light as air. Zuko's fingers tangled with his as he drifted off to sleep kept him tethered to Earth, though. That hand, and the person it was attached to, served as his anchor for the remainder of the night.

The next time he woke up, the room was bathed in sunlight and he was alone in bed. For a moment, he was disappointed. The fullness of his bladder and the aching in his leg were enough to distract him.

He dragged his sore body out of bed to relieve himself in the bathroom. When he stumbled back across the hall, ready to go back to sleep, Izumi was setting a plate stacked with sweet buns, round and steaming, on the nightstand. She turned when she saw him, offering a small smile. Her apron was dusted in flour and she had a tea stain over her chest.

"These are for you. Dad made them this morning," she said.

Sokka slowly walked over and picked one up. It was still warm, and the filling melted over his tongue pleasantly when he took a bite.

"Tell him I said thank you," he said, popping the rest of the bun in his mouth.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?"

"Because I’m going back to bed," he said through his bite, sitting down on the edge of the bed and brushing crumbs off his hands.

Izumi furrowed her eyebrows and took a tentative seat next to him. "Are you doing alright?" she asked.

"No, I'm half-left," he joked. She shot him a withering look, and he deflated. "I've been better. But don't worry about me, kiddo."

Izumi's hair was tied back in a single braid that drifted over her shoulder. She twirled the end of it around her fingers as she considered him.

"You know, meditating can really help clear your thoughts," she finally said.

Sokka scoffed. "Maybe for a bender. Not me. I've tried meditation before, and it didn't do anything but make me antsy."

Izumi rolled her eyes. She seemed to do that a lot around him. Or maybe it was a teenage girl thing? 

"Meditating isn’t restricted to benders. You were probably just doing it wrong."

"How is there a _wrong_ way to meditate? All you do is sit there and breathe and try not to fall asleep!"

"Yeah, you were definitely doing it wrong."

"Shut up," Sokka groaned. He grabbed another bun and took a massive bite to avoid talking more.

She laughed and stood up, running a hand over her apron. The miniscule amount of flour that came off was visible in the sunbeams shining through the window, but disappeared as it hit the floor.

"My dad taught me how to meditate. He could teach you too," she said.

Sokka swallowed his mouthful and tilted his head in acknowledgment. "I'll think about it."

She nodded at him, then left. He finished eating the bun he was holding, reaching for another, and another, and another. When he mindlessly went for his sixth bun, he realized the plate was empty. He pouted, then silently scolded himself. 

_Well_ , he thought with a sigh, _I suppose my stress eating hasn't gone anywhere._

He fell into another deep sleep not long after he got back in bed. It was dreamless, for once, and only interrupted by Zuko crawling under the covers later that night. Sokka, all inhibitions absent in his sleepy-state, reached out for him with a quiet complaint that he was too far away. An arm slid under his neck and another under his armpit, pulling him into a warm chest. He drifted off again, comfortable and safe.

Unsurprisingly, after sleeping for so long, Sokka woke up before Zuko the next morning. The sky was just beginning to lighten with a new day. He was dismayed to find that he had become the little spoon at some point in the night, but the position was too cozy to make a fuss about it. His bad leg was stiff, though, drawn up tight as a bowstring from his lack of movement the day before.

Sokka sat up and stretched his leg off the edge of the bed, Zuko’s arms dropping from his waist in the process. He blinked awake and yawned, ever the light sleeper.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, rubbing his eyes. _Spirits_ , if his voice always sounded like that in the morning, Sokka wanted to wake up to it everyday. But he blanched at the fact that he had thought such a thing, and his hand froze where it was previously massaging his leg right above the knee.

“Stretching my leg,” he mumbled.

He heard Zuko get out of bed behind him, and suddenly he was in front of Sokka.

“Do you feel like helping me make breakfast?”

Sokka looked up at him and nodded. “Sure, why not.”

Making breakfast consisted of cutting up a bunch of fruit and throwing it into a bowl. Zuko reheated the sweet buns from the day before with his hands, a warmth that followed him around the kitchen even after he was finished with his task. Sokka found himself swaying into his space more often than not, and chided himself for not paying more attention to what he was doing. Maybe, it was time for him to leave.

Though after breakfast, he sat down to write a letter to Katara and realized he wasn't ready to go back to Republic City yet. The thought of returning to his empty apartment and his position on the Council made him anxious still. Despite his feelings on leaving, he felt homesick for ice and snow, his father, and he missed his sister and her kids terribly even though it had only been about ten days since he’d seen them. Ten days since he’d fled.

Throughout the day, he found himself thinking about his mother more frequently than usual. But instead of pushing those thoughts away like he normally did, he let them ruminate. He strained to remember her smile and her laugh, the way her eyes brightened in the sunlight, the look of love she always wore for Hakoda. Once, his father told him that he looked so much like Kya that it hurt to see his face, sometimes. And Sokka understood his pain, but a part of him was angry, too, that Hakoda had said such a thing to his own child. He was always quick to forgive, though.

It was obvious that he wasn't magically okay after having finally confessed to Zuko what was plaguing him. But he did feel better, and the fact that he was actually thinking about his mom so much and trying to picture her face, something he hadn't done in years, was a testament to that. 

He penned his letter to Katara, telling her he wasn't coming home yet. After a while, the words got away from him; he wrote about Zuko, his baking, how much Izumi had grown up. He even mentioned that he was thinking about Kya that day, which he knew would be a cause for concern for Katara, but he left it in the letter anyways. Writing whatever came to mind was actually freeing, and before he knew it, he'd filled two pages with his ramblings without thinking too much about it. 

This time, Izumi accompanied him to the Outer Wall to send his letter out because Zuko wanted to stay behind and help Jin with the shop. Druk was just as terrifying a sight as he had been before, but Izumi greeted him the same way Zuko did, with words of praise and lots of pets.

Before they'd left the shop, Zuko had explicitly told Izumi that she wasn't allowed to ride Druk when he wasn't there. So, Sokka was alarmed when she hauled herself up into his saddle.

"Wait, Izumi!" Sokka yelped, lurching forward to grasp the rein closest to him. He wasn't sure what his goal was; it wasn't as though he was strong enough to hold Druk down.

Druk sent him stumbling backwards with a flick of his head. Sokka fell on his ass and glared up at Izumi, who was doubled over laughing and pointing at him. 

"Izumi, you can't─"

"Don't tell Dad!" she yelled, before giving Druk a sharp whistle that sent them high above the Outer Wall in seconds. He watched helplessly, stomach swooping as they went _upside down_ for a moment as they flew farther away. 

Two thoughts went through his head after his shock wore off:

  1. He had a feeling that she'd _definitely_ pulled this stunt before.
  2. He was _never_ having kids.



He paced back and forth, sick with worry, until Izumi and Druk landed safely in front of him. She sent Druk away with his letter and they headed back to the Upper Ring. Sokka didn’t talk to Izumi on the way there despite her numerous attempts to make conversation. He wasn't necessarily upset that she had disobeyed Zuko. It was more about the fact that she took off, out of reach, and he was left with the thought that he couldn't do anything if she got hurt.

When they walked up to the back door of the Jasmine Dragon, Sokka stopped her before they went inside. 

"What were you thinking, flying off like that?"

Izumi groaned. "It was just a little joy ride. Relax."

"Don't tell me to relax! What if something had happened to you? What would I tell Zuko?" he exclaimed.

Her expression softened into one of guilt. She dropped her eyes to the ground. "I didn't think of that. I'm sorry."

He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. "Okay. Just─ Don't do it again, please."

She nodded. Then, her eyes turned pleading, and she clasped her hands in front of him. "You're not gonna tell him, right? Please don't tell him!" she begged.

Sokka squinted at her, long enough to make her squirm in anticipation. Finally, he said, "Fine, I won't tell him."

She squealed and threw her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I─"

The back door opening cut her off. They both turned to see Zuko, wiping his hands on a towel and giving them a suspicious look.

"What's all this about?"

"Nothing!" Sokka and Izumi said in unison.

Zuko blinked and rolled his eyes. "Never mind. I don't want to know," he sighed, walking back into the kitchen.

Sokka glanced at Izumi. She was already looking at him, lips pursed as she tried to hold back laughter. The sight made _him_ laugh, and they both collapsed against the building, giggling.

It wasn’t until that moment that he was absolutely certain his decision to stay in Ba Sing Se longer was the right one. 


	5. time is on my side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im gonna say it now, but the pacing of this chapter is like... kinda wonky compared to the rest of this story. oops. BUT i hope you still enjoy anyways!! my favorite scene is in this chapter, with some lovely art to go with it by taki (@6reeze on tumblr)! thank you so much for reading this far and ive loved looking at all of your comments!!! <3
> 
> trigger warning for discussion of body image and weight gain

The days passed slowly in Ba Sing Se, much like they did when he was fifteen and their little ragtag group wandered the streets, worrying about Appa, the Earth King, and a war they shouldn’t have been involved in. He spent the majority of his time in the Jasmine Dragon, sipping a cup of the special of the day and people-watching. It was unusual for him to sit quietly by himself, but ever since he’d spilled his guts to Zuko, he felt strangely withdrawn. Sometimes, Zuko kept him company at the table he’d claimed for himself, going over paperwork that Mai sent him from the Fire Nation.

More and more often, he left the tea shop to visit old spots in the city that he hadn’t seen since before the end of the war. Sometimes, addressing the faded memories felt like dusting off an old toy from his childhood that he had stashed away and forgotten about. It wasn’t nearly as painful as he thought it would be, and every day he came back from his walks feeling a little more at peace. 

That peacefulness seemed to translate to his dreams as well, though that was probably more Zuko’s doing. He still had nightmares occasionally, but they were much less frequent. When he did have them, Zuko was always there to wake him up before he sunk too deep. He’d never felt so safe in his life as he did with Zuko’s steady presence by his side every night, reminding him of what was real.

In an effort to be productive, he accompanied Zuko to a meeting with King Kuei, which they had both made an effort to look presentable for. It was odd seeing Zuko in his mostly-full Fire Lord regalia, after he’d been wearing nothing but casual, outdated Earth Kingdom clothing that Iroh let him borrow. Sokka had braided back the top half of Zuko’s hair to wrap elaborately around his signature gold hair piece. Thinking back on it, he wished he hadn’t done so.

“Okay, I’m all done,” he’d announced, smoothing a hand over the top of Zuko’s head to push down any flyaways. 

When there was no response from Zuko, Sokka had frowned and moved to stand in front of him, only to see that Zuko was slumped down in the chair, arms crossed and eyes closed.

Sokka poked him in the shoulder and his eyes jerked open. “Did you just fall asleep while I was doing that?” he’d asked, unable to contain his mirth.

Zuko glared up at him, but the sleepy squint to his eyes lessened its effect. “I can’t help it. Whenever someone plays with my hair, I doze off.”

Sokka’s smile had faded a little, because _that_ was not information he needed to know. _How am I supposed to stop wanting you if you keep saying stuff like that?_ he’d wondered.

Now, looking at Zuko’s braid as they left the palace, hairpiece glinting in the sunlight, he couldn't bring himself to regret helping Zuko get ready because he looked so gorgeous.

He didn’t realize he was staring dreamily until Zuko snapped him out of it by chuckling, "I can't believe you said all that stuff about the Lower Ring. He was so mad!"

Sokka rolled his eyes, and finally turned away to look at the sun steadily rising to its highest point in the sky because it hurt less than looking at Zuko. "Well, everything I said was true."

The meeting was going well up until the end. Sokka sat quietly while Kuei and Zuko discussed everything they needed to, then took the opportunity to chew the Earth King out about the conditions of the Lower Ring before they left. Zuko had watched the exchange with delighted shock, poorly concealing his pleased smile behind his hand until they were out of the palace.

"Oh, I know. I'm glad you spoke up."

"It's my job to speak up. There are people from the Lower Ring that move to Republic City and still have a hard time getting by. It's one of the biggest problems the Council has at the moment. And I’m not upset at _them_ for trying to find better lives. I’m angry that he hasn’t been doing his job for my entire lifetime."

Zuko asked him questions about the Council as they walked to a spot near the palace that was lined with stalls selling street food. As they approached the crowd, he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. Sokka frowned, not only because Zuko's face was hidden now, but also at the fact that his braid was probably getting messed up.

They found a stall selling meat kebabs that had a long line, though neither of them minded the wait because they had each other for company. But at some point during one of Sokka's long spiels about the various buildings in Republic City (this time, it was the library), Zuko's eyes had focused somewhere over his shoulder.

Sokka trailed off and looked behind him to see what caught Zuko's attention. Immediately, he knew what it was. Two men, not much younger than them, stood together a few paces away. One had a mochi ball in his hand, and popped it into the other's mouth, both of them laughing as he did so. Their foreheads bumped together, and despite the people swarming the area, they looked completely absorbed in each other. Like they were in their own little world.

Sokka turned back to Zuko, who was still looking on wistfully at the couple, and raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't take you for the romantic type."

Zuko snapped back to attention, eyes widening as he realized that Sokka had caught him staring. Even under his hood, Sokka could see the blush coloring his cheeks. 

"I'm not," Zuko scoffed, but the way his eyes flickered back to the men betrayed him.

Sokka nodded with mock solemnity. "Alright. If you say so." 

Zuko heard the playfulness of his tone and narrowed his eyes. "Shut up," he muttered, lips twitching as he pushed at Sokka’s shoulder. "If anyone here is the romantic type, it's _you_."

Sokka couldn't help the fond smile that took over his face while he pushed Zuko back. He didn't miss the way Zuko's gaze lingered on the men as they walked away. They waited in line for a while, quiet now. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that escaped his brain-to-mouth filter before he could stop it.

"Have you ever been with a man before?"

Zuko froze, and seemed to shrink into himself a little. Sokka cursed his stupid, uncontrollable mouth, and rushed to apologize, but then they were being called ahead to order and he didn't get the chance. 

Mortified, Sokka stumbled over his words as he ordered and avoided eye contact with Zuko while he did the same. It wasn’t until they were both walking away with kebabs in their hands that Zuko broke the awkward silence.

"No."

Sokka tripped over a stone in the road and nearly choked on his food. "You haven't?"

"I've thought about… men, before. Mai and I used to talk about that kind of attraction sometimes. I guess I should have seen it coming when she told me she loved Ty Lee," Zuko said with a rueful smile. At the mention of Mai, he seemed to wilt a bit.

Sokka blinked, surprised that Zuko had actually answered his question. "Oh. So, uh, what are your thoughts on it?"

Zuko glanced over at him like he had two heads, which was fair. "On men?"

Sokka nodded, probably too eagerly if the amused look on Zuko’s face was anything to go by.

He shrugged, picking a vegetable off his kebab. "I don't know. I mean, I don't find men _unattractive_ , but I've never had any experiences with one either. I've been with Mai my whole life."

"But now that you're single, you can mingle! See what it's all about." He wasn't sure what he was trying to get out of this conversation. Maybe if Zuko was in a relationship again, he'd be able to keep his feelings in check better? Was he unconsciously trying to protect himself?

Zuko laughed a little, then sighed. "That sounds nice. But I don't really have time to date. I have Izumi, I'm the _Fire Lord_ … it's not worth it."

"Nonsense!" Sokka gasped, hip-checking Zuko. He lurched and glowered at Sokka when his kebab almost flew out of his hands. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "But those are just excuses. If you stopped cooking for two seconds, I bet you could find someone right here in Ba Sing Se."

"You love my cooking," Zuko pointed out with a smile.

"I mean, yeah. But that's not the point!"

Zuko’s smile faded. "I think I'd rather cook for you than spend my time making boring small talk with a random man I'll never see again."

Ah, and there it was again. The desire for Zuko to stop saying things that made Sokka want to drag him into a kiss.

Sokka cleared his throat. "Well, I won't tell you how to live your life," he said, taking a bite of his kebab.

"Plus, Mai understood me. She knew about what I've been through, what I've done, and what my duties are. I'll never find someone else like that," Zuko sighed. 

Sokka had the urge to yell, _I'm right here! I know you, I could take care of you._

But he didn't. For once, he kept his mouth shut. He was too scared he would say what he wanted.

* * *

Usually, Sokka didn't wake up when Zuko slipped out of bed to meditate with the rising sun. He was always quiet, careful not to jostle the mattress too much so Sokka could keep sleeping. So, for some reason unbeknownst to him, his eyes fluttered open as Zuko's feet touched the bedroom floor one morning. He didn’t notice that Sokka was awake, and he silently left the room, slowly lightening with the incoming dawn.

Sokka remembered what Izumi said about meditating; that he was doing it wrong, that Zuko could teach him. He wasn't sure he believed that it would help, but he _wanted_ to get better. He wanted to be better, for himself and for the people around him. That, and the thought of getting to spend a little extra time with Zuko was all the push he needed to haul himself out of bed.

Iroh, Zuko, and Izumi meditated on the balcony overlooking the city. It was an amusing sight, the three of them lined up neatly on the cool stone, legs crossed and backs straight. Sokka padded over and leaned against the open doorway, silently watching. It seemed that not one of them had noticed his presence.

He took the opportunity to crouch behind Zuko. "Teach me how to meditate?" he whispered in Zuko's good ear, brushing a hand over his back.

Zuko cracked his right eye open and looked at Sokka. "If you were trying to startle me, it didn't work," he grumbled, leaning back into Sokka’s touch.

Sokka grinned and plopped down next to him. "You got me. So, what do you say? Will you show me how?"

"Of course. But─"

" _Shhh_!" Izumi hissed. Sokka and Zuko turned to look at her. She was still as a statue, brows furrowed in concentration. Next to her, Iroh looked asleep.

Zuko snorted and looked back at Sokka. "Let’s go somewhere else."

Sokka wasn't sure what to expect when Zuko said they should go _somewhere else_ , but he certainly didn't think it would be the bathroom.

"You want to meditate… in the bathroom?" he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Zuko scowled. "No," he replied, pointing at the window. "We're going on the roof."

Then, he opened the window, and pulled himself out of sight. Sokka scrambled over and poked his head out to see where Zuko had gone. He was looking over the edge of the roof, eyebrows raised.

“Are you coming?”

Sokka hesitated. He could _probably_ get himself up there, but there weren’t many footholds on the side of the building, and he definitely wasn’t as nimble as he used to be…

Zuko stuck his arm down and nearly struck him in the face. He shook it a little, tantalizingly, and asked, “Do you need help?”

“No,” Sokka said, glaring as he started to make his way out the window. Everything was going smoothly until his left foot slipped on the wall and he squeaked in alarm. Zuko had a grip on him in seconds. His hand felt like a hot brand on Sokka’s forearm as he tugged him the rest of the way onto the roof.

“You’re not hurt, right?” Zuko asked, concern on his face as his hand travelled up to Sokka’s shoulder, seemingly checking him over for injuries. Sokka barely suppressed the urge to shiver at the feeling of Zuko’s hand roaming over his bare skin. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, pulling away. A part of him was embarrassed, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he almost fell, or because of his reaction to Zuko’s touch. He made a mental note to wear long-sleeved shirts around Zuko as often as possible.

Zuko led him to the flattest part of the roof, which happened to be facing the sunrise. From their vantage point, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon of tiny buildings that stretched far into the distance. 

“How did you find this spot?” Sokka asked.

Zuko lowered himself into the same stiff, cross-legged position he’d been in earlier. Sokka mimicked him, wincing when his leg protested as he bent it.

“I used to come up here at night when Uncle first opened the shop, before… Well, you know what happened,” Zuko sighed. He didn’t talk about Azula much, and Sokka never brought it up to him because it was obviously a sore subject.

"It's a beautiful view," he said, looking around the city that was gradually adopting a pink hue as the sun made its appearance.

"Yeah. It is," Zuko murmured. Sokka glanced at him. He was already looking over, a little smile on his face that faded when they made eye contact. He turned to face the sun instead, and Sokka couldn't ignore the way the rosiness of his cheeks was exaggerated by the purples and pinks emerging from the sky. He was practically glowing, and Sokka wondered how he had gone the entirety of their long friendship without being utterly distracted by how beautiful he was.

Before he did something rash, he cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from Zuko. "So, what do I do first?" he asked.

"Make sure you're comfortable. You don't have to sit like this to meditate properly. I know your leg is bothering you," Zuko replied without even looking over.

"How'd you know my leg hurts?"

"I saw your face when you first crossed your legs. Just stretch it out in front of you."

Sokka grumbled and did as he was told. It seemed that Zuko was a lot more observant than Sokka gave him credit for.

"Meditation is about focusing on the breath. It's okay if your mind wanders, but when you catch yourself doing it, turn your attention back to your breathing."

Sokka raised his eyebrows. "Wow. You actually sound like a teacher."

Zuko laughed. "That's why I'm here, isn't it? What did you expect?" 

"I don't know, I thought you would just tell me what to do and then ignore me for your own meditation," he said with a shrug.

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Then I wouldn't be a good teacher, would I?"

"I guess not," Sokka replied, a teasing smile on his lips.

Zuko turned until he was facing him completely, with his right side to the sun. It left the scarred part of his face shrouded in darkness. He was breathtaking. 

How in _La's_ name was he going to concentrate?

"Okay, now I want you to close your eyes and relax. Be aware of your entire body, how it's feeling. Think about what you can touch, see, hear, smell, and taste."

"You want me to close my eyes and then think about what I can see?" he asked in confusion.

"Yes. It will make sense, I promise," Zuko said, surprisingly patient.

Sokka blew out an uncertain breath and closed his eyes. His leg ached a little, but nothing too noticeable. He was tired, though it wasn't the same as the bone-deep exhaustion he'd been dealing with before. He focused on the way the tiles of the roof pressed into his flesh, surely leaving indentations. He felt the cool morning breeze caress his skin, felt the beginnings of the sun's warmth flit over him. 

The sun had come up enough to illuminate the backs of his eyelids. He saw his veins, purple and fragile and small. They reminded him of blood. _His_ blood, being bent against his will. Instead of dwelling on that, he took a slow, measured breath and listened to the morning birdsong. He heard Zuko's gentle breathing next to him, comforting in its steadiness. The smell of bread wafted through the air, along with smoke as people began to cook their breakfast and start their day. And there wasn't much he could taste since he hadn’t eaten yet, but the morning air had a distinct freshness to it that he could feel on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes again, a haziness had settled over him that came from concentrating so hard on each of his senses. He looked over to Zuko, bleary-eyed.

"What now?" he muttered

"Take a deep breath. Hold it."

Sokka complied, and Zuko smiled when he was done. “Good. Now, think about the air flowing into your lungs when you inhale, and leaving you when you exhale. Focus on that feeling as you meditate. It’ll help you stay tethered to your body.” He paused, waiting for Sokka to nod in understanding. “Okay. Close your eyes again and keep breathing deep. I’ll do it with you.”

It seemed too simple, at first, to just breathe. But he quickly found himself getting lost in it, especially with Zuko’s rhythmic inhales and exhales in time with his own. Eventually, his mind did wander. Not to his old memories like he thought it would. He found himself thinking about the future, what he was going to do when he went back to Republic City, what he was going to do about Zuko; specifically, his feelings for him which were growing more and more out of hand every day.

It went like this:

He would pull himself away from those thoughts (with difficulty) and concentrate on his breathing again. Though when his mind inevitably drifted again, it always circled back to Zuko.

Zuko’s eyes.

Zuko’s mouth.

Zuko’s hands.

The way he’d taken care of Sokka all these weeks.

Then he would snap out of it, breathe, and the cycle began again.

After a while he stopped worrying that he couldn’t keep his mind away from Zuko and instead succumbed to those thoughts. When he finally blinked his eyes open, the sun was much higher in the sky than it had been. Under its warmth, his skin burned pleasantly and made his muscles feel loose with relaxation. He glanced over at Zuko, who had since finished his meditation and laid back on the roof, hands on his stomach, face turned towards Sokka. They didn’t say anything to each other, only shared a soft smile and went back inside.

In the end, he wasn’t sure if the meditating helped or not. Maybe his head felt a little less cluttered. What it _did_ do was clarify that he was so far gone for his best friend, and all the reasons they couldn’t be together did nothing to stop the longing that was consuming him.

* * *

The day that marked one month of being in Ba Sing Se was a normal one. He sat in the tea shop like usual, he read his book of poems, and he indulged himself in Zuko’s sweets as well as Jin and Izumi’s company. 

At night, he took a bath after dinner. He toweled himself dry, pulled on his underwear, then his shirt.

Except his shirt was too tight.

He frowned down at himself and pulled the shirt back off, turning so the length of his body could be seen in the tall mirror. His face went slack at what he saw.

His stomach, which hadn’t really been flat since he was in his twenties, now stuck out over his underwear. There was extra padding over his hips and waist, accompanied by new stretch marks to join the old ones that had already made their prominent home on his dark skin. There were more on his thighs, too, both outer and inner to his dismay. Even his face had filled out, and he brushed a disbelieving hand over his bearded cheek. He narrowed his eyes at his reflection. It seemed to mock him with all of its imperfections. With its crow’s feet, and gray hairs, and now, chubbiness.

Sokka had always been a little thicker, especially as he matured into adulthood. But so was every other person from the Water Tribes. Naturally, living in such a harsh, cold climate meant the ability to pack on a layer of fat was a matter of life or death. It had never been something that he was conscious of because having the extra bulk was healthy and normal. And really, he’d always been active enough that his muscles stood out more than any extra fat he was harboring.

This, though… this was different.

He’d been aware that he was going overboard with the stress eating. Except if he was being honest with himself, the stress eating had faded along with his nightmares, after he started sleeping with Zuko. Everything following the night of his breakdown had mostly been his own lack of self-control when it came to delicious food. How was he supposed to say no to Zuko’s hopeful face every time he offered Sokka something to eat? 

Gaining weight and worrying about how he looked was trivial compared to what he’d dealt with before, what he’d been dealing with for the past _month_ ; but he couldn’t help the irritation and revulsion at his body that washed over him.

He heard Zuko’s voice from somewhere down the hallway. Through the closed door, he couldn’t make out words, only the quiet raspiness of it. Hearing it, however, made something like annoyance surge inside of him, and he was yelling Zuko’s name before he thought better of it.

“Zuko! Get in here!”

Quick footsteps made their way down the hallway. A moment later, Zuko was pushing the door open, a worried look on his face that morphed to shock once he saw Sokka.

“Sokka, what─”

“This is all your fault!” Sokka said. He pointed an accusing finger at Zuko, who only gaped back at him. “And shut the door! What’s wrong with you?” Sokka yelped, waving a hand at the hallway.

Zuko seemed to snap himself out of whatever trance he’d just been in, stepping further into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He leaned back against it.

“I don't think I understand. What’s my fault?” he asked.

Sokka groaned and gestured down at himself. “This! Can’t you see it? I’ve gained a ton of weight because of your stupid, amazing cooking!” He pinched the skin over one of his hips between his fingers. “I mean, look at this! It’s awful and─”

His words choked off when he looked back in the mirror and caught sight of Zuko standing behind his reflection. _Oh no_ , he thought. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by a wave of embarrassment and shame. Who was he to blame Zuko for his problems? Worse, he had put most of his ugly, bare skin on full display for him to see. He’d thought when he cried into Zuko’s arms after that terrible nightmare, that was the most naked he would ever feel around him. But the real thing was so much worse, especially since it wasn’t the _fun_ kind of naked. Slowly, he bent down, picked up the towel he had used to dry off, and wrapped it around himself in an effort to cover up.

For a while, there was an awkward silence, interrupted only by Izumi and Iroh’s muffled conversation. A cool night breeze came through the open bathroom window, raising goosebumps on his exposed skin. He let out a shaky breath and pulled the towel tighter around his shoulders.

“Are you cold?” Zuko asked, making him jump.

“No,” he lied.

Zuko stared at him in that uncomfortable, owlish way of his, a habit from his teenage years that he carried into adulthood. Usually, Sokka didn’t mind the attention. But in that particular moment, the scrutiny wasn’t welcome.

“Stop looking at me,” he snapped weakly.

Zuko tilted his head. “Do you really think that about yourself?”

Sokka recoiled. “What?”

“You said…” He paused, licked his lips slowly. Sokka’s eyes tracked the movement helplessly. “That you look awful. But, Sokka, you look, um… you look─”

“Terrible? Disgusting? You don’t have to lie.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” he huffed, frowning. 

Zuko took a step forward, then another, until he was right in front of Sokka, who shrunk underneath the towel. Sokka hung his head, and let his damp hair fall to conceal his face.

“I wasn’t going to say that at all. You’re fine. There’s nothing wrong with gaining weight, and you’ve been having a hard time recently. No one is going to fault you for that,” he said quietly, yet firmly, trying to catch Sokka’s eye.

Sokka glowered at his bare feet on the floor. “You’re just saying that.”

Zuko tapped a finger under his chin. Reluctantly, he clenched his jaw and tilted his head up, looked somewhere over Zuko’s shoulder instead of into his eyes.

“I’m not. You look healthy, and, well… if I’m being honest, you’ve always been handsome. Nothing is going to change that, not your weight, or your age, or whatever else it is you’re worried about. Besides, your worth isn’t defined by how you look. Okay?”

At that, Sokka snapped his eyes over to Zuko’s. One look at his face told Sokka how nervous he was. His cheeks had gone ruddy, a beautiful shade of red that matched his lips. Sokka gulped at their proximity and leaned back a little.

Somehow, Zuko had found the underlying issue. It wasn’t Sokka’s appearance that truly bothered him; it was the signs of an aging body, of things that got harder and harder to fix the older he became. It was the things he couldn’t change, like the gray hair, the scars and stretch marks, the pain. 

Sokka sighed. “Okay.” Then, more chipper, “You think I’m handsome?”

Zuko glared up at him, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he said, reeling Sokka into a tight hug.

Sokka’s arms were caged in by Zuko’s since he was still clutching the towel around himself with both hands, but he leaned into it anyway. Ignoring the fact that he was almost completely naked, he tucked his face into Zuko’s neck and let himself be held for a moment.

“How do you always know the right thing to say to me?” he whispered, breath ghosting over Zuko’s neck, who snorted and cringed away from the ticklish feeling. 

“I don’t,” Zuko said, pulling away from the hug. “I just say things and hope for the best.” 

It was funny, really. Zuko was the most awkward and surly out of their group. Always had been. Yet he seemed to have an uncanny ability to provide comfort to those he cared about, no matter what the situation called for.

He picked up the shirt and pants he _was_ going to wear from the floor and looked them over sullenly. “I guess I need new clothes,” he grumbled.

“But that means you have an excuse to go shopping,” Zuko pointed out.

Sokka gasped. “You’re right! You’re just full of good ideas tonight, aren’t you?” he laughed.

He reached out, playfully thumbed at the neckline of Zuko’s shirt. The tip of his finger brushed a collarbone and he jerked his hand away.

The blush on Zuko’s cheeks had faded a little, but not completely. It made his eyes look brighter, his face younger. Sokka wondered if he looked like that whenever Zuko made him flustered. 

“I suppose,” Zuko said, yawning wide. He blinked watery eyes at Sokka. “I’m ready for bed.”

“Me too.”

Zuko fell asleep quickly after they settled in. The knuckles of one of his hands brushed up against Sokka’s arm as he moved in his sleep. Sokka lay awake, lost in thought.

Perhaps he had _slightly_ overreacted earlier. He tried not to dwell on the fact that ten years ago, a month-long eating binge wouldn’t have altered his body as much as it had at his current age. Sometimes it was difficult to accept how old he was getting, hence his poor reaction to gaining some weight. Soon, there would be things he couldn’t do anymore, or opportunities missed because of a worn down body. The scariest part was figuring out a worthwhile way to spend his precious time, because the last thing he wanted was to live with regret after it was too late to change things.

It didn’t help that he felt older than he really was. He’d certainly had an eventful life with plenty of ups and downs that made him feel weary and wise beyond his years. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed more time for _something_ , a frantic energy under his skin that begged for his acknowledgment. Deep down, he knew what it was.

_What do you want?_

He never asked himself that question. Rarely, he thought about himself, what he wanted and needed from people, from _life_. Maybe that’s why the last month had just been one long, drawn out midlife crisis that felt like a fever dream some of the time. He didn’t like to think about it, because it wasn’t in his nature. He was a giver, a protector. He didn’t _know_ what he wanted, and the world never gave him time to figure it out anyway.

Zuko sucked in a deep, noisy breath in his sleep, startling Sokka out of his thoughts. He turned to look at the man next to him, who was settling deeper into his pillow with a contented sigh. The loose bun he’d assembled before going to bed was falling apart, allowing hair to spill over his cheeks like black ink. Looking at him without shame allowed Sokka to see that he, too, had graying hair at his temples and lines that time had carefully etched into his face. His lips were parted, and even the scar looked more relaxed in sleep. He’d moved a little closer to the middle of the bed, the hand that was barely touching Sokka now curled around his arm.

 _You’ve always been handsome_.

The words echoed through his head. Sokka had teased him about it, but could he have really meant it? Did Zuko actually think that about him after all this time?

Warmth spread through his chest when he looked over that sleeping face. Whether it was hope or fondness, he didn’t know. But when he asked himself again, _what do you want_? The answer was right in front of him.

 _I want him_.

* * *

“Who taught you how to cook, anyway?” Sokka asked.

He was sitting on the counter of the tea shop’s kitchen, watching Zuko flit about as he prepared some sort of cake he was experimenting with that had a cherry filling. Speaking of cherries, Sokka stole one out of the steadily shrinking pile as Zuko pitted them. They were dark red in color, nearly purple, perfectly sweet and juicy.

Zuko batted his hands away. “Stop eating them,” he scolded. “My mother taught me how to cook. We used to sneak into the palace kitchens at night, after our duties were finished.” 

His smile was wistful. Sokka was glad that he had at least _one_ good thing to remember from his childhood. 

“Yeah? Did she teach you this?” Sokka asked, taking another cherry from the pile. He ignored Zuko’s weak protests and popped the stem in his mouth, fiddling with it for all of ten seconds, until─ 

He yelled triumphantly and pulled the cherry stem out of his mouth, now tied in a knot to Zuko’s amazement.

“How did you do that?” Zuko laughed. 

Sokka shrugged. “It takes practice. Plus, you have to be good with your tongue,” he said, winking at Zuko for good measure. Zuko shook his head and continued with pitting the cherries, cheeks turned a lovely pink. Sokka smiled to himself.

The kitchen was quiet save for the clinking of metal as Zuko heated the chopped-up cherries in a pan with water and sugar. Jin had closed the shop an hour before and taken Izumi with her to pick up some things they were running low on. They were alone. There was something about the hush that had fallen over them that left the room feeling peaceful and hazy.

Sokka watched Zuko stir the cherries for a while, mind drifting. Despite the incident in the bathroom the other day, he was still excited to try Zuko’s cakes. The disgust he’d felt at having gained weight had faded to a dull irritation that he didn’t have the energy to pay attention to.

After the concoction had bubbled for a while, Zuko brought the mixing spoon to his mouth, blowing on it before wrapping his lips around it for a taste. Sokka looked away because Zuko’s mouth was _distracting_ to say the least.

He heard Zuko pull the spoon out of his mouth with a pop. “Want to try?”

Sokka's eyes slid back over to him and zeroed in on the spot of cherry sauce staining Zuko’s bottom lip. 

“Hey, you’ve got…” He was leaning forward without realizing, hand hovering in front of Zuko’s face.

“What?” Zuko asked, glancing down at his hand, then back into his eyes. 

Sokka swayed closer. He could feel Zuko’s warm breath on his face now, hitching as he leaned in. It smelled like cherries, and he wondered if his mouth tasted like cherries, too. He wanted to kiss the sweet filling right off his lips. His eyes flit back up to Zuko’s heavy lidded ones. Sokka tilted closer, dangerously so.

“Can I─”

“Yes. Please,” Zuko breathed, nodding quickly and nearly bringing their mouths together. But it was okay, because that’s what Sokka did next anyways.

His nose pressed into Zuko’s cheek as their lips met. Zuko’s were sticky from the cherry filling, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling as they moved together at a slow, sweet pace. He heard Zuko drop the spoon in the pot before he moved closer, hands coming up to gently cup Sokka’s face. Sokka swiped his tongue over Zuko’s lower lip, any trace of the tart sauce now gone; he was rewarded with a shaky inhale from Zuko that made him smile into the kiss. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to Zuko’s, feeling giddy.

“It’s too sour,” Sokka blurted out. 

Zuko backed off a little, presumably so Sokka could see his sassily raised eyebrow. “What, the filling?”

“Yeah. Needs more sugar,” he murmured, gripping a handful of Zuko’s shirt and yanking him forward.

“Oh, really,” Zuko laughed. “C’mere then.”

Zuko tugged Sokka’s face back to his, kissing him harder this time. It was effortless to lose himself in the closeness, the tenderness in which Zuko brushed his thumbs over his cheeks. Sokka moved one of his hands, which had been hovering awkwardly in between them, into the hair at the nape of Zuko’s neck, his other arm wrapping around Zuko’s waist. Zuko dropped his hands from his face to curl under his thighs and pull Sokka’s legs around his body. In response, Sokka pressed his calves into Zuko’s lower back, pushing him until he was flush in between Sokka’s legs.

Heat pooled in his belly when Zuko slid his hands back up Sokka’s thighs and gripped them, pulling until Sokka’s ass was on the edge of the counter and he was as close to Zuko as he could get. Those same hands pushed their way up his shirt, almost unbearably hot against his bare skin. Sokka gasped into Zuko’s mouth when his hands squeezed his hips tightly, and Zuko took the opportunity to lick into his mouth greedily.

He never would have thought that Zuko paying special attention to the curves of his body would be so pleasurable, but he was surprised to note that none of his insecurities arrived to dampen the mood. Instead, Zuko’s fingers digging into his flesh effectively drowned out any coherent thought he had, leaving no room for self-doubt. He also hadn’t expected Zuko to take control of the kiss and thoroughly wreck his composure, but here they were. For not ever having any experience with men, Zuko knew exactly how to take him apart.

Zuko broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and Sokka didn’t even have time to be confused before there were lips under his jaw. His hands scrabbled for purchase on Zuko’s back, gripping his shirt as hot, wet kisses were pressed all over his neck, behind his ear, and down to his shoulder. When Zuko reached the junction of shoulder and neck, lips turned to teeth and Sokka let out a truly embarrassing noise, legs tightening around the waist they bracketed. He felt Zuko smirking against his skin, and _spirits_ , this man was going to be the death of him─

The back door opened and Zuko sprang away from Sokka like he had been shocked. There was the sound of groceries falling to the floor, and an affronted shriek from Izumi. Sokka sat frozen, watched as Jin playfully covered Izumi’s eyes with her hands. She pushed them away and glared at Zuko.

“Really, Dad? You’re worse than Mom and Ty Lee!”

“No way!” Zuko exclaimed. “This is _nothing_ compared to the time you saw them in the garden─”

“Gah! Don’t remind me!” Izumi groaned, slamming her hands over her ears.

Zuko slumped and looked down at the floor. His hair was messy, half out of the neat ponytail it had been in before Sokka got his hands on it, and his clothes were unmistakably rumpled.

“Izumi, I’m sorry─” he began, taking a step towards her, but she interrupted him again.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you guys finally figured out your… whatever this is. Just, not in the kitchen? Ever again? _Please_?”

“I second that,” Jin piped up from behind Izumi.

“Yep. Okay. We can do that,” Zuko squeaked, avoiding their gazes. The color of his face almost matched his scar. Sokka wasn’t faring much better, and it didn’t help that he could feel his skin cooling where Zuko’s mouth had been.

Seeming to sense his awkwardness, Izumi swiveled to face him at his spot on the counter. He jumped. 

“And you! You better treat him right, or you’ll regret it,” she said, fingers twitching at her side like she was struggling not to threaten him with a ball of fire.

“Izumi! Please don’t talk to him like that!” Zuko said. He was trying for a stern tone, but the impact was lessened by his disheveled appearance. Izumi wasn’t fazed a bit. 

“I’m not listening to you right now,” she said. Zuko stared at her, mouth open in shock. Jin helped her gather the groceries that had fallen on the floor and put them all on the table in the corner. “I’m staying with Jin tonight. I don’t want to overhear any _noises_.” 

And with that, they left, just as quickly as they had arrived.

They exchanged cautious glances. Zuko blew out a loud sigh and trudged back over to Sokka, back in between his legs, back to having his arms around him. He rested his head on Sokka’s chest.

“Sometimes I really don’t like teenagers,” Zuko grumbled, and Sokka barked out a hysterical laugh.

“I hear you. That was something else.”

He untied the remains of Zuko’s ponytail and ran his fingers through the long strands. Zuko hummed and nuzzled closer. They stayed like that for some time, not talking, just soaking in each other’s presence. Sokka absently plaited Zuko’s hair while he sorted through his thoughts.

Somewhere down the line, his infatuation for Zuko had morphed into something more solid, more real. He treasured every moment they shared together, every touch they bestowed upon each other. Even just holding him in his arms like he was right then was exhilarating, and it was undeniable that the feeling blooming in his chest was love. Love, pure and wonderful and deep. But he had no idea what Zuko was thinking. He still had doubts in the back of his mind and the fact that they led very different lives was the most prominent one. Despite all that, he thought of his revelation from a few nights ago.

_What do you want?_

_I want him._

He was done withholding things from himself, done with pushing every feeling down. He’d spent a lifetime doing that, and look where it got him? Sokka was getting too old to pretend that he wasn’t lonely, that he wanted more than what he had allowed himself. All he had to do was reach out his hand, and see if Zuko took it. 

“I can feel how hard you’re thinking,” Zuko whispered. He pressed his cheek to Sokka’s chest and gazed up at him. 

Sokka brushed a knuckle over his cheek, just underneath the scar. “What do you want, Zuko?” he asked. It was a genuine question, one that wasn’t demanding in nature. Just hopeful.

Zuko never tore his eyes away. “You.”

Sokka smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. 

And again and again and again.

* * *

Sokka didn’t miss the weight on his shoulders that came with trying to hide how he felt about Zuko. Now, he could touch him freely, kiss him whenever he wanted. The dazed, lovesick look he always received after was something he couldn’t get enough of.

Zuko had always been a reserved, closed-off person, and Sokka thought that wouldn’t change in a romantic relationship. But it became apparent that Zuko was full of surprises. Sometimes, they would be walking down a secluded street in the city and Zuko would drag him into an alley, push him against the building and kiss him breathless against the stone. Or at night, he would roll on top of Sokka unexpectedly and whisper sweet nothings in his ear that made him melt. It felt like they were making up for lost time.

Of course, it couldn’t last forever.

The letters came on the same day. One for Sokka with an official seal of the United Republic Council, and one for Zuko from the Fire Nation. They both held them in their hands and regarded them with dread.

Part of him wanted to ask Zuko to burn them both. If they didn’t read them, then they wouldn’t have a reason to leave Ba Sing Se, leave _each other_. They could stay in their little bubble, uninterrupted. But that would be selfish, and he had been selfish enough by taking off with no notice.

“I don’t want to open it,” Sokka sighed, sitting on the edge of their bed.

“Me neither.” Zuko was standing in front of him, holding his letter tightly in his hands to the point where the scroll was getting crushed. He’d put his glasses on but had made no move to look at what it said.

“I guess there’s no point in dragging it out,” Sokka muttered. He opened the letter roughly, not bothering to treat it with care. Across from him, Zuko did the same.

His letter contained exactly what he thought it would. An update on the usual clashes between benders, gang activity, and homelessness within the city. It was disheartening to read, though it wasn’t as if the problems he left behind would magically take care of themselves in his absence. Mentioned briefly were some new building proposals that caught his interest. Something about an embassy for each nation? The letter concluded with a formal request that he return to his position. 

He looked forlornly up at Zuko, expecting his sadness to be mirrored, but Zuko was…

Smiling?

“What?” Sokka asked, confused.

“Mai said that I’m wanted in Republic City,” he answered, the grin never wavering from his face.

“Really? Why?”

“They want to build a Fire Nation embassy in the city and they'd like my approval and opinion on some things.”

Sokka glanced back down at his letter, processing. So, Zuko could go back to Republic City with him?

They didn’t need to be torn apart, after all?

 _Not yet_ , a voice in his head supplied. 

Suddenly, he was second guessing taking the leap from friends to lovers. Maybe they would have a little extra time in Republic City, but what about after that, when Zuko would have to go back to the Fire Nation, or fret over his Uncle in Ba Sing Se? What if they couldn’t handle the distance? What if─

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s the matter?” Zuko asked. He sat down next to Sokka and took both of his hands.

Sokka tilted his head back, because unfortunately, he was emotional enough that tears were threatening to fall. “It’s great that you can come back to Republic City with me. I mean, I’m thrilled about that, don’t get me wrong. But… what about after, Zuko? You can’t stay there forever, and we can’t stay here forever.”

Zuko considered him for a moment, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Even that sight wasn’t enough to sidetrack Sokka from his worry.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you actually, that, uh. I want to abdicate.”

Sokka’s eyes widened. “What? Zuko, who would─”

Zuko rushed to explain. “I wouldn’t leave the throne to Izumi, or some other random person! I want to get rid of it first.”

Sokka stared at him. “So you’re saying you want to reform the Fire Nation government, then step down.”

Zuko nodded. “Yes. It won’t be a quick process, but I’ve been wanting to do this since I took the throne. I have detailed plans for it.”

Well. _T_ _hat_ certainly changed things. But there was one thing that was still bothering him.

“Why now? You said you’ve wanted to do this for a long time. What changed?”

Zuko hesitated. “I never had a good reason to. And I was always too scared. Now, though… the older Izumi gets, the more I realize that I don’t want this life for her. If she wants to go into politics, fine; that’s her choice. But I’ll never forgive myself if she’s forced to do this simply because she’s my daughter.” He squeezed Sokka’s hands, and said shyly, “Plus, I have you too.”

Sokka’s chest warmed at the simple confession. Zuko’s reasoning was sound, and he couldn’t say he disagreed with dismantling the monarchy. He relaxed minutely and squeezed Zuko back.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You think it’s a good idea?”

Sokka nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so. Obviously we’d have to talk about it in more detail. It sounds too good to be true if I’m being honest."

“It’s not,” Zuko said determinedly. “I know I can do this.”

“Well, consider me sold,” Sokka replied, pulling his hands away so he could bow to Zuko. 

Zuko laughed and bowed back. He gave him a peck on the lips, which turned into languid kisses that made him feel so incredibly loved.

It wasn’t perfect, but they still had time.

Sokka intended to make the best of it.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr @verdanthoney!!


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